Finding Emrys
by LiviKay
Summary: Merlin has been missing for months and when Arthur finally finds him, both he and their destinies have changed. Rated M for violence, gore, mentions of mostly off-screen torture of various types, mentions of self-harm and suicide, general evilness, excessive angst, maybe some sexual implications but nothing explicit, and moderate language. Arthur's POV.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"I swear, she had _two_ of them! Merlin, you should have seen it."

"I'm rather glad I didn't..."

"I'm rather glad he didn't, too." Arthur interrupted before Gwaine could continue on his ridiculous - and likely entirely false - story of scantily dressed barmaids. "He's got enough nonsense in his idiot head already. We'd better dismount here. It wouldn't do to have one of the horses spook and throw someone over the edge."

There had been a steady drizzle for the past three days and a steady monsoon the past four nights, so the ground under the group's feet was soft and slippery. Until now the cliff had been wide enough that it wasn't much of an issue, but just ahead the trail narrowed drastically. They would have to make their way single file, practically pressed against the steep stone wall of the mountain to avoid falling into the raging current twenty meters below. That is, if they were very, very lucky. Chances were if someone was to fall they'd hit one of the many rocks below and be shattered into a mess of blood and broken bone...

" _Oh, just lovely, Arthur,"_ the young king thought to himself with a grimace as he dismounted, hearing his knights and servant doing the same behind him. " _Think about something else...Guinevere..."_

Arthur's grimace turned to a smile as he thought of his beautiful wife. He hadn't seen her in nearly three weeks now. There had been a spot of trouble with bandits attacking villages in Camelot's name in Queen Annis's land, and she had requested a meeting to sort it out. It had all ended well, fortunately, with the bandits in Annis's dungeon and Camelot's name cleared.

To be honest, it hadn't been a wholly unpleasant trip, until this blasted spring rain had started up. He'd be glad to get back to his bed...and his queen. Possibly at the same time...

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait until the rain stops?" A voice broke Arthur out of his thoughts and he turned, glaring, to face his servant.

"Don't be such a _girl_ , Merlin."

"I've just got a funny feeling about this."

"If we listened to every one of your 'funny feelings' we'd never get anything done. Get a move on; I want to be past this ledge before dark."

He turned back towards the ledge and took a step forward, only to whip around again when the sound of an arrow cut through the air, followed immediately by a soft grunt of pain.

Leon clutched his right arm for just a moment before releasing it to draw his sword and face their attackers instead. Arthur felt a surge of pride at the strength of his knights as he drew Excalibur and charged towards the trees on the wider part of the clifftop. "To me!"

Retreat was not an option here, with the cliff on one side and the enemy on the other, but Arthur wouldn't have it any other way. He had eight of his finest knights at his side and Excalibur in his hand; combine that with the adrenaline coursing through him, and he felt invincible.

He cut the first bandit down with ease and could hear the others falling to his knights' blades around him. The second fell just as quickly but the third blocked his blow with his own sword and pushed the king back, a feral grin on his face. A couple of blows later made it clear that this wasn't a mere bandit; or at least, hadn't begun his life that way. He had training and a decent amount of natural talent.

He matched several of Arthur's blows and even managed to put a shallow cut on his left bicep before the king shoved past his defences and landed a fatal blow to his opponent's gut. The man dropped with a muffled scream and Arthur stepped back, taking a second to check his men. Sir Bors had fallen and Gwaine had blood running down his face from a cut on his brow, but was still fighting with a ferocity only Gwaine possessed. Merlin, as usual, was nowhere to be seen. Probably hiding behind a tree or something.

Arthur smiled grimly, seeing that his men were making short work of the bandits. A few, like his last opponent, seemed to be trained, but not to the level of his knights and soon, they too fell. " _Camelot's finest..."_

After merely a moment there were few bandits left and Arthur was just thinking the battle won when an unseen force lifted him off his feet and flung him towards the cliffside. His body slammed into the trunk of a tree, then fell to the ground where he lay, gasping for breath as another twenty men ran from the forest.

" _Reinforcements...where did they come from?"_ He thought dizzily as he forced himself to his knees, then to his feet, using the tree for support. His ears rang, but he could still hear the harsh sounds of battle. Swords clashing, men screaming, sorcerers incanting...wait, what?

"Arthur!" Merlin's shout of alarm effectively cut through the fog in Arthur's brain and he turned around just in time to duck out of the way of a fist-sized fireball aimed at his chest.

Before he could figure out where the magical attack had come from another bandit was charging him and he realized for the first time that he'd lost his sword. He stepped back to avoid the bandit's first clumsy swing and the bandit slipped in the mud and fell on his face with a shout of surprise, dropping his sword along the way.

" _That was lucky..."_ Still dizzy, Arthur snatched up the sword and quickly dispatched the bandit.

"Arthur, you're bleeding." Merlin gasped out as he ran to his master's side. He'd gotten a sword somewhere, Arthur noticed...probably from one of the bandits.

"What?"

"Your head."

"I'll be fine. Watch yourself!" Arthur snapped out the last two words in a rush, grabbing his manservant and wrenching him behind him and stepping forward to block a blow that had been aimed directly at Merlin's neck.

The bandit stepped back, spun his sword expertly and took a swing at Arthur's side. Arthur blocked it again and shoved him back. Once again, Arthur watched as his opponent slipped in the mud and fell to the ground, however, this time before he could impale the man there was a wet, crunching thud from directly behind him and a scream of agony.

Time seemed to slow and his heart stop as he spun around, sword raised as Arthur saw a sight he knew then he would never forget.

A large, armored man stood over Merlin, holding a huge hammer in one hand and wearing a sadistic grin on his face. Merlin was on his knees at the man's feet, slumped against the tree and clutching his right arm tightly against his side. A large purple stain was rapidly growing on the shoulder of his blue tunic.

Forgetting about the man behind him, Arthur let out a scream of rage and shoved his stolen sword through Merlin's attacker, straight through to the hilt.

For one brief moment, all he could see was the shocked expression in the brute's eyes and the trickle of blood slowly flowing into his scruffy beard. All he could hear were Merlin's pained gasps beside him.

Then a fiery pain exploded against his back and he staggered away from the man, letting out his own cry of pain as the corpse fell to the ground. He turned just enough to see a robed, expressionless man he could only assume to be the source of the fireballs before another pain struck him, this time in his leg as his previous fallen attacker drove a dagger into the back of his right calf and dragged it down, tearing through muscle and scraping against bone.

The king screamed in pain and fell onto his side as his leg gave out beneath him. " _Get up, protect yourself, protect Merlin,"_ he thought to himself furiously as he tried and failed to get back up, grab a sword, anything. " _Come on, you're supposed to be Camelot's champion, her king, you can do better than this!"_

But no matter how hard Arthur tried, he could do nothing but look up through the haze of pain and a concussion as the sorcerer stepped forward and held his hand out over Arthur, palm down, and began to incant.

 _This is it, I'm going to die. Killed by a sorcerer like my father. I'm sorry, Guinevere. I'm sorry, Merlin..._

As the sorcerer's eyes began to glow and Arthur's world began to darken, he heard a gasping, pained voice from beside him.

"Arthur!" Then a blue and red blur slammed into the sorcerer and instantly his vision started to clear again.

"Merlin," He moaned, managing to get one arm underneath him and half propped himself up despite the burning pain in his back.

His manservant, barely able to keep himself on his feet, was somehow managing to wrestle the sorcerer away from the king and towards the cliff. Arthur, his mind clouded by pain, decided right then and there that, if they survived this, he would never call his servant a coward again.

Merlin wrapped his left arm around the sorcerer's neck and held on tightly, his right hanging limply at his side as he shoved obstinately at the enemy. The sorcerer tried to push Merlin off of him, failed, then growled in anger and gripped Merlin's injured shoulder.

Merlin screamed and his legs buckled, but he still managed to stay upright through pure stubbornness. Barely hanging onto consciousness, his blue eyes met Arthur's briefly and in that one glance, Arthur knew what Merlin's last ditch effort would be.

"Merlin, _no_!"

Arthur had thought he'd never forget the sight of Merlin kneeling injured on the forest floor, but that was nothing compared to the moment Merlin took one more step towards the cliff's edge and the dirt crumbled beneath him.


	2. Chapter I

Here's the next chapter! I was planning on just posting a chapter a week, but I got overexcited. :p It's not as exciting as the last, but I hope it's not a letdown. Thanks for reading and please review!

* * *

 **Chapter I**

Five months. It had been _five bloody months_ , and Merlin was still missing.

After Arthur and the knights had returned to Camelot he had sent more knights out immediately to search. Gwaine, though injured, had insisted on going along and Arthur hadn't been able to bring himself to stop him. He would have done the same if he could walk.

But he couldn't, and so he had been forced to wait in bed as patrol after patrol came back, each with the same news: Merlin was still missing. After two weeks had passed with no sign of him a member of the council had suggested calling off the search. He was only a servant, after all, and besides, the boy was dead.

The man was lucky Arthur hadn't been able to stand.

The battle had been a victory, technically. Arthur didn't see it that way. They may have defeated or driven off the last of the bandits, but he had lost two knights and three more had been injured, not including himself. That alone would have been bad enough, but with Merlin lost and Arthur unable to do anything about it...

There were times Arthur almost wished he hadn't come back alive. If Merlin hadn't saved him, he might still be in Camelot. If Arthur had died, he wouldn't have had to see the grief in the faces of his wife and Gaius when they heard what had happened.

It had been seven weeks before Arthur had been well enough to join the search, though even now he had to put conscious effort into walking without a limp. Ever since Gaius had let him out of bed the king had been roaming his kingdom and beyond, grasping at straws and getting nowhere. Every time he thought he'd found a lead he had followed it to a dead end.

The council threw a fit if Arthur stayed away from Camelot for more than a month at a time, so, to placate them and calm unrest, he was forced to return every four weeks or so to make sure his kingdom was still running smoothly. Guinevere was an excellent queen and handled matters nearly as efficiently as Arthur himself, but not all the council trusted the erstwhile peasant yet, even with Leon remaining behind to guide her.

And now, three weeks into their latest search, the king and five of his knights were currently crouched behind a row of shrubs and watching a small, rundown hovel. There had been rumors of slavers attacking and capturing travelers in the past few months, and they had been traced here, to an "abandoned" hut in the middle of the woods. It was likely another goose chase, but at least Arthur would feel like he was doing _something_.

Arthur looked down at the signet ring he wore on a chain around his neck and sighed. The ring, found at the edge of the cliff where Merlin had fallen, was the only clue they had as to who their attackers were. Unfortunately, not even Gaius or Geoffrey had recognized the pattern of interlocking circles and lines. Still, it was the only clue he had so he was keeping it close to him, determined not to lose it...even if he had memorized the pattern well enough to copy it if he did.

Sir Alymere drew Arthur from his thoughts with a firm nudge to his ribs. " _Sire_ ," He whispered, pointing at the door of the hovel the group had been watching.

Arthur looked up, annoyed at himself for getting lost in his mind _again_ , and saw a dozen burly, filthy men armed to the teeth exiting the hovel. The place hardly looked big enough to hold so many men at once, which confirmed Sir Kay's theory about it having a basement.

The shortest of the men laughed and punched a large, bearded man in the arm. Arthur and the knights were too far away to hear what they were saying, but it didn't matter. They were leaving, _finally_ , giving the knights a good opportunity to sneak in.

They waited another moment for the alleged slavers to clear off, then Arthur stood and cautiously approached the hovel. The door had no lock and opened easily - obviously they weren't expecting visitors.

The interior of the hovel seemed to match the exterior. There was a dusty table and two broken chairs shoved to the side haphazardly, and a shelf hanging from one end on the wall. A sagging bed sat directly across from the table and a faded rug lay between them.

"There's nothing here." Gwaine snapped angrily after a second of staring at the single room.

Alymere lay his hand on Gwaine's shoulder and smiled softly. "My friend, if there's anything I've learned about secret rooms, it's never trust a rug."

Without another word the knight bent down and lifted the edge of the rug before throwing it aside, revealing a sturdy trap door.

"Percival." Arthur barked hurriedly, then watched as Alymere stepped back and allowed his large friend to crouch and rip the trap door open. The lock bent and flew across the room.

Gwaine was the first to descend, followed closely by Arthur, Percival, Alymere, Kay and Lucan. The stairwell was so dark the knights couldn't see the others in front of them. They could feel that it was narrow and stone, and Arthur knew if he stayed much longer he'd start to shiver from the cold.

If the party had had any doubts as to the nature of the cellar it was dispelled immediately when the smell hit them - the unmistakable scent of urine, feces and sweat.

Light flared up behind Arthur and he turned to see Percival taking a newly-lit torch from the wall. The light was followed by quiet murmurs and a few whimpers from deeper into the cellar. The knights approached slowly and Arthur tried not to vomit at the sight - and smell.

There were at least two dozen people crammed into makeshift cells around them. Each cell had a bucket, but they clearly hadn't been emptied in far too long.

"Merlin?" Arthur called softly, but received no answer.

Heart sinking, Arthur stepped immediately to the first cell he could reach and unlatched it. The cells didn't even have proper locks, just simple latches. They sat there, just out of reach of the prisoners, taunting them. Arthur swallowed down his anger at the slavers to save for later and opened the door.

The three prisoners - two women and a man - shrank away from him in fear. He held up his hands reassuringly. "I won't harm you. You're free now.." Around him the knights were releasing the other prisoners, and he saw a couple step hesitantly out of the cells. It didn't take long for them to see that Merlin wasn't among them. Percival checked the last cell and shook his head sadly at Arthur.

A small part of Arthur was glad that Merlin wasn't starving in this filthy, cold hole in the ground, but a much larger part was disappointed.

"Is that it?" A hesitant, hopeful voice asked. "We can just go?"

Arthur nodded, once again pushing his frustration and grief aside so he could deal with the task at hand. "Yes. Though I would like to ask you all a question once you're all outside. Will you stay long enough for that?"

There was a brief silence, then a small voice piped up from a corner. "Of course. Can we go home then?"

Arthur turned his head to face the speaker, shocked to see it was a child. A little blond girl no older than ten summers. "You're all free to go home. If you have no home to return to you will be welcome at Camelot."

"Camelot?" A woman asked. "Who are you to grant us shelter there?"

"Her King."

There were several shocked murmurs at that, then the little girl stepped forward and took Arthur's hand. "Let's go. I want to see my mam."

Arthur nodded again and led the prisoners out into the fresh air and sunlight. Once in the forest the prisoners fell silent again, each one of them taking deep breaths of the clean air and squinting in the sunlight. A man fell to his knees and buried his fingers in the dirt and leaves on the ground and began to sob in relief.

"What's your question?" The little girl asked, clearly eager to go but wanting to help her saviors first.

Arthur cleared his throat to get the prisoner's attention and raised the signet ring before asking the question he'd asked a hundred times before, always with the same result. "Do any of you recognize this symbol?"

The little girl stretched up on her toes to look, then shook her head. "I'm sorry. Thank you for saving us."

A young man stepped forward, looked, shook his head, then went to join the girl as the pair headed home. They were probably from the same village, Arthur thought. One by one the prisoners stepped forward to look at the ring, and one by one they shook their heads.

Arthur's heart sank lower and lower as each one departed. The last man, a middle-aged fellow with bright orange hair, stepped forward. He peered at the symbol for several seconds before speaking. "It looks familiar..."

Arthur's heart leapt, but Gwaine was the first to speak. "Where have you seen it?"

"Gimme a moment, lemme think." The man said, sounding slightly disgruntled. "I done a lotta travelin', I 'ave...I think I saw it a couple'a years ago, sommer up north. Past t' mountains."

"Are you sure?" Arthur blurted out, embarrassed to hear how breathless he sounded.

The man nodded. "Course I am. Think it were on some bloke's coat or sommat. Thought it was an odd thing to wear...ain't no lords or nothing up there with that crest."

Arthur clapped the man on the shoulder - though in that moment, he would rather have hugged the filthy man - and grinned. _Finally_ , after months, they had a lead, flimsy though it was. " _Thank you_. Alymere, get the horses."

Lucan politely cleared his throat to interrupt, then nodded towards the hovel. "With respect, Sire, should we not finish up here first?"

Arthur deflated, but nodded. "Of course, you're right." He glanced around, then smiled humorlessly. "Percival, where did you put that torch?"


	3. Chapter II

First off, I'd like to give everyone reading this a huge thank you. I never expected to get over two hundred views in just the first two chapters!

Just in case it isn't clear, most of the italics are Arthur's thoughts/flashbacks.

I wanted to make Arthur wear a kilt, but unfortunately Google tells me that people didn't wear kilts until, at the earliest, the late seventeenth century. :/ Oh well.

This chapter took a bit longer than I expected. I had nearly all of it written when I suddenly decided part of it should come later in the story, so then I was stuck with the beginning of this chapter and the end of a later one...but to compensate for the wait, this one is a thousand words longer than the previous two (just for you Starlight1395 ;) ).

As always, I love reviews. :)

* * *

 **Chapter II**

 _Arthur stumbled through the woods to the river, searching its banks desperately. "Merlin!" He yelled, even though the roar of the river was so loud he could hardly hear his own voice. He'd been searching for hours without a single sign that his closest friend was even alive._

That's because he isn't, _a small voice in his head told him._ He's gone and it's your fault. He's at the bottom of this river, drowned, his corpse being slowly nibbled on by fish until there's nothing left.

" _Shut up!" Arthur snapped, his voice cracking as he fell to his knees in despair. "Just...Shut up._ Merlin _!"_

" _What is it, Arthur?" A mildly amused but mostly just exasperated voice said from behind him. "Need me to clean your boots? You know, it's not my fault you've decided to take a walk in a river."_

 _Arthur whirled around so fast he slipped in the mud and nearly fell on his face. "Merlin?" He looked around desperately, but he was alone. "Where are you?"_

" _Where I've always been; right here at your side."_

" _But you're not." Arthur said sadly. "You're gone. You're gone and I need you."_

" _Mm, yes. It would appear so...And whose fault would that be?"_

 _Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down at the ground, unable to speak._

" _I figured you'd be doing something useless like blaming yourself. Can't last a day without me, can you?"_

 _Arthur looked up, once again searching for the source of the voice. "Are you haunting me, then?"_

" _Oh I'm not dead yet." Merlin's voice said matter-of-factly. "I wouldn't do that. Aren't I always blathering on about destiny or something? We're not finished yet."_

" _What are you doing here, then?"_

" _Looking for woodworm." Merlin replied cheekily, without missing a beat._

 _Arthur let out a bark of choked laughter. "No wonder you've been gone so long, you're on a wild goose chase too!" His voice cracked on the last words as he wondered, yet again, if this really was just one long and pointless quest._

 _Merlin laughed as well and the sound made Arthur's heart ache. How he'd missed that sound. The laugh soon turned to a sob that was quickly cut off._

" _Arthur..." Merlin's voice was now no more than a whisper, full of sadness and pain._

 _Arthur closed his eyes to prevent his tears from falling. He_ was _still King, after all. Simply because he couldn't see Merlin didn't mean Merlin couldn't see him, and he'd be damned if he was going to cry like a girl for Merlin_ in front of _him._

" _Arthur..." Something warm and wet dripped onto his face and his eyes flew open. Before him stood the sheer cliff face, and at the top of that stood..._

 _Merlin._

 _He stood right at the edge, damp from rain and shaking from cold...No, that wasn't right. He was shaking from pain. His shoulder was bleeding as it had been when he'd gone off the cliff, the sticky fluid running down his arm in quick rivulets to gather and drip lazily from his fingers to the ground at Arthur's feet._

 _His head was turned up to the sky at first, but after a long moment he looked down at Arthur with sunken eyes. Even though Merlin merely whispered and the pair was separated by at least twenty meters, Arthur could hear his last words as if they were standing right beside each other._

" _Don't give up on me."_

 _Merlin's pained eyes met Arthur's for a moment, then closed for the final time. A shadowed figure stepped silently behind him, stretched out his hand, and gently pushed Merlin off the edge._

 _Merlin fell._

 _Arthur screamed._

Arthur woke with a start, sitting bolt upright and gasping for breath. He glanced around in a panic, fully expecting to see Merlin's crumpled body laying in a pool of blood beside him.

Instead he saw only the softly glowing embers of a campfire and three of his knights. Percival and Alymere lay sleeping in their bedrolls and Gwaine sat propped against a tree on watch a short ways away. The horses munched quietly on a patch of grass.

It looked far too peaceful for Arthur's racing heart.

Unable to go back to sleep, Arthur stood and made his way silently to the fire to toss a couple more logs on. It wasn't autumn yet, but it was getting close and this far up north there was a definite chill in the air.

"Nightmares?"

Arthur's head snapped around to glare at Gwaine, who merely shrugged. "You're not the only one."

"I'm fine." Arthur lied, glancing around at the trees. "It's just this place. There's something wrong here. It's always so quiet."

Gwaine nodded. "I noticed that too. I don't think I've heard a bird since we crossed the mountains. Even the trees seems too still."

Arthur looked up at the trees and realized Gwaine was right. He could hear a breeze in the air but no creak of branches. Even the leaves themselves seemed limp and lifeless. _If Merlin was here he'd probably say the forest was cursed or sacred or some such nonsense._

Arthur looked away, choosing instead to watch the path his absent knights had left on. If he had had his way, he'd be in the city by now, looking for the sigil from the ring. But Lucan, the resident Voice of Reason, had suggested that two of them go first to asses Dunloch and get native clothes.

He had argued initially, but eventually had to agree. A group of well-built foreigners with the demeanor of knights would draw attention, and if the sorcerer who had taken Merlin _was_ there, the last thing any of them needed was unnecessary attention.

He wasn't sure when he had started assuming the sorcerer had survived the fall, but the idea was strangely comforting. If he was going to insist that Merlin was alive it would be foolish to not assume that the sorcerer could have survived as well. Besides, if Merlin had survived alone surely he would have come home by now?

There was one more thing that made the thought of Merlin in the hands of a sorcerer a comfort: If Merlin had been taken by someone else, their lead was useless. They'd have been barking up the wrong tree all these months, and after all this time, Arthur didn't have a clue where else to start.

Hopefully he wouldn't have to.

Hearing soft voices coming from the path, Arthur stood up and crept silently forward, hand on his sword. A moment later he recognized the voices and relaxed. "Kay, Lucan, I trust your trip went well?"

Lucan gave a short nod. "About as well as we had expected, Sire. The citizens seem...overly wary of strangers, but we weren't watched too closely. We told anyone who asked that we were just passing through on our way to visit relatives further north and wouldn't be staying long."

Kay tossed a large bundle of fabrics to Gwaine, then glanced at Arthur. "That wasn't it, either. Several of them seemed nervous, or just depressed."

Lucan nodded in agreement. "There was a very melancholy feel to the place. We didn't want to ask too many questions and draw more attention. We did keep an eye out for that symbol, but saw no sign of it."

Arthur nodded as Alymere and Percival woke up and went to sort out the new clothes. "You did well. We'll all head in again at dawn."

* * *

"What kind of tunic is this?" Arthur exclaimed in annoyance as he grabbed fistfuls of the heavy material and glared at Kay. He was sure this was some sort of stupid prank, and he _definitely_ wasn't in the mood.

"It's what people here wear." Kay explained with a tolerant smile.

"You mean what women here wear." Arthur grumbled. "I feel like I'm wearing a dress."

"And you'd know what that feels like, would you?" Gwaine asked as he pulled on his own overly-long tunic.

"Shut up, Gwaine." Arthur said, but with a final tug at his baggy sleeves he decided to drop the issue. _When we find you, Merlin, you can't ever say I don't care._

Swallowing the now nearly ever-present lump in his throat, Arthur looked around at his, in his opinion, ridiculously dressed men. "Well then, let's move."

Every one of them eager to get somewhere, no one needed any convincing. The group made good time and arrived at the gates of the city just under an hour later. Dunloch was a little larger than Camelot, but much quieter.

Arthur frowned as they led their horses through the streets and only passed a few dozen people, nearly all of whom looked like citizens. "With a location like this I thought it would be a successful trading hub."

Alymere nodded in agreement. Sitting between the ocean and a river should at least bring in a sizable amount of ships of foreign goods and fish. With the surrounding farmland and other cities adding to that the streets should have been packed. "Something is definitely wrong here."

Gwaine grinned at that. "Sounds like a good sign to me."

Arthur nodded, watching as a middle-aged woman eyed them nervously before shuffling into her house, casting a final glare at them before slamming the door shut behind her. "We're too conspicuous like this. We should split up.

"Gwaine, you're with me. We'll take the west side. Lucan, Kay, you two take the east. Alymere and Percival take the north end. We'll meet back at the market at noon. Be careful."

The party split and, thankfully, drew fewer glances. "So, where do we start?" Gwaine asked.

"Where are men's tongues the loosest?"

Gwaine grinned. "The tavern."

"Exactly." Arthur said, pointing to a wooden sign depicting a jug of mead up ahead. For once he wasn't worried about the knight getting drunk when he was supposed to be working. Gwaine had been worryingly sober for the past three and a half months.

About a month after Merlin had fallen Gwaine had given up. In a fit of despair he dove into a bottle and didn't come back out for nearly three weeks. But when he did, he had a renewed determination. Arthur had seen something he couldn't identify burning in his eyes after that and since then, it had never died.

Arthur was glad Gwaine was so focused, but sometimes he missed the old version of him. He joked less now and his stories were rare and forced, often petering out and ending in the middle.

And now, as they stepped into a tavern, he didn't even spare a glance for the gorgeous blonde barmaid flouncing their way. "Ye wan a bevvy, darlin'?"

"What?" Arthur asked, thinking for a moment that she was speaking another language.

"A bevvy? Mebbe some soup?"

"Soup would be good, thank you."

She flashed them a sweet smile and sauntered off towards the kitchen, leaving Gwaine and Arthur to find a table near the middle of the room, where they could hear conversations from all sides. A couple of customers gave the pair a passing glance but no one seemed too interested.

Arthur sank into his seat and clenched his jaw as the scarred muscle in his calf twinged. Even after all these months the injury still bothered him from time to time. It wasn't usually so bad it couldn't be ignored, but it was an annoyance anyway. For now, he resisted the urge to massage it and glanced around the tavern to assess the other patrons.

An old man sat alone in the corner, drinking deeply from a flagon. From his demeanor he had clearly been here a while, despite the early hour. Arthur immediately dismissed him as a harmless drunkard, not worth their time.

Two younger men sat roughly three yards from Arthur and Gwaine, eating breakfast. They appeared to be travelers of some sort, but after a moment of listening to their conversation it became clear that they wouldn't be of any help.

The most interesting of the lot were the farmers sitting at the counter. There were six of them, all drinking. Odd, this close to harvest. Looking at their miserably hunched shoulders, it was clear they weren't celebrating. Interest piqued, Arthur tuned in to their conversation.

"...soil's all gone dry. It doesnae make any kin' ah sense, I tell ya. There was rain jist last week, but it dinnae make a difference. There ain't nothin' ah can do 'bout it. The crops are dyin'." One man said miserably.

The man next to him nodded. "Ah got th' same thing, an' Am feart my family'll starve."

"Ain't never seen a year so bad." Another put in. "My crops dinnae even sprout last spring. Had t' turn t' fishin', but even that's been poor."

Arthur gave Gwaine a questioning look and the knight shrugged. Before either man could make a comment the blonde barmaid returned with two steaming bowls of soup. "Here y'are, lads." She said with an open smile as she set the bowls down before them.

Arthur gave her a coin and his thanks, and she eyed him curiously. "Ye aint from 'round here, are ya?"

"No," Arthur answered calmly. "I grew up a ways south, near the mountains. But I have family up north I haven't seen in a few years. My cousin and I are on our way to visit them."

The woman nodded. "Ah've been t' the mountains, once, when I was but a wee lass. It's bonnie there, it is. Ye stayin' in Dunloch long?"

Arthur shrugged noncommittally. "Not sure yet. It depends on if the weather holds. We might stay a day or so just to rest. We've been riding for a few days now and my cousin here doesn't much like the saddle."

Gwaine shot Arthur a sulky glare that went unnoticed by both King and barmaid. "Well," The woman said, "We've plenty o' room 'ere if ye need someplace t' kip."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. "I noticed there don't seem to be many travelers in Dunloch right now. Last time I passed through the streets were bustling and I could hardly find a room!"

"Aye," The woman said wistfully, her voice lowering. "Things've been a mite quiet 'round 'ere all year. Trade hasn't been good. The land prospered last year, but now...It seems like it's sick. I cannae think of a better way to put it. T' animals know it. Did ye hear it on yer way 'ere?"

Arthur nodded. "The silence."

"Aye, the birds 'ave near all gone. Even t' fish are startin' t' leave t' rivers! Some say the gods 'ave forsaken us or left for other lands. Others say t' land is cursed."

Arthur's head snapped up at that, but Gwaine beat him to it. "Cursed?" The knight asked, leaning forward slightly.

The barmaid nodded, then shrugged. "People say many things. I cannae know what is truly 'appening."

"Do you know how far this sickness spreads?" Arthur asked, feining worry. "I hope it hasn't reached my aunt's village."

The woman shrugged again, giving Arthur and Gwaine a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, I dunno. I've heard word of problems as far as Leven."

Arthur sighed in false relief. "Thank you. My aunt's village is much further north than Leven. They may still be fine."

"Aye, they may. Never lose yer hope, lads. I'm Kelsi. If ye need anything at all, jist gimme a holler." The woman said, giving Arthur a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaving to tend to one of the other patrons.

" _Don't give up on me."_

Arthur picked at his soup, suddenly finding his appetite gone.

"This might be connected." Gwaine said quietly after a moment. "A malicious sorcerer cursing the land? Note that this started _this year_. Merlin has been missing since spring. It's a strange coincidence."

"It could still be a coincidence." Arthur pointed out pessimistically. "We don't even know it's sorcery."

"It's still worth checking."

Arthur nodded morosely. "I'm willing to check anything at this point. Even a few missing fish."


	4. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

Arthur and Gwaine were nearly half an hour late to meet at the market, but with very little to show for it, other than what they had heard in the tavern. Arthur hoped the others had had more luck.

The market was a bit more crowded than it had been that morning, but far more empty than it should have been. Still, there were enough people milling around that it took the pair a few minutes to spot the others.

Gwaine nudged Arthur in the side with his elbow and pointed. "There, by that fabric merchant. Alymere looks impatient."

Arthur looked and had to agree. The knight was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and stretching up to look over the crowds. Percival stood next to him with his arms crossed across his chest, staring down at the dirt as if lost in thought. Lucan and Kay mostly just looked confused.

Odd. "Think they found something?" Gwaine asked hopefully as they wove their way towards the rest of the party. Arthur didn't answer, unwilling to get his hopes up just yet.

Alymere spotted them and waved them over. "What did you find?" Arthur demanded quietly as soon as they were close enough to speak without garnering attention from the shoppers.

"A farmer." Alymere said happily, and for a moment Arthur was reminded of Merlin. Always spouting nonsense and expecting it to make sense to the rest of them.

"A what?" Arthur snapped, a touch harsher than he'd intended.

"He was traveling north. Said he'd given up on the land and was moving to make his fortune elsewhere. His fields are dead and he hasn't enough seed to replant next year, nor enough food to last him the winter." Arthur felt the spark of hope he'd felt at the sight of Alymere's excitement flicker and die. It was just more of the same he'd heard already.

"About six months ago - " The spark reignited as quickly as it had died as the knight continued his story. " - he was in his fields just before dawn, checking for frost. A group of armed men walked through, heading south. He said there were about twenty-five of them. Their leader wore robes and carried no weapons, and after they passed through nothing grew in his fields.

"That's not all, either. He said he saw a silver pattern of circles on the side of the robed man's hood."

Arthur's hand immediately went to the ring hanging from his neck, but he didn't need to look at it to remember the symbol. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Where was this?" Gwaine demanded, pressing closer.

"A few days ride north, on the outskirts of a small village called Tull. I doubt we'll find anything there though. The farmer was the only one who saw them."

"Still," Kay said. "It's a clue and a step in the right direction."

Arthur nodded. "We need to find out where Tull is, then find out what's past that. Did anyone find a map?"

Sir Lucan, ever dependable, raised a scroll of cheap parchment in the air without a word. "Good. It's too crowded here. Let's head back to camp and make a plan there."

* * *

Arthur spread the map out on the forest floor and Kay dropped stones onto the corners to keep the parchment flat. The king, being an experienced navigator, spotted Dunloch instantly. His eyes traveled north until he found Tull. "There." He said, dropping a pebble onto the spot to mark it more clearly.

There were a few more villages further north of Tull, including, Arthur noted, the previously mentioned Leven. There was a town that appeared to be similar in size to Dunloch, marked as Elwick, and a castle.

Arthur dismissed the villages and castle for now. The villages were mainly populated by farmers and fishermen, and would likely have no reason to curse the land. Likewise, the king wouldn't be likely to have been sending sorcerers to curse his own kingdom. And if he had something against Camelot he'd be able to send better than half-trained thugs to attack.

Digging a quill and ink pot from a bag, Arthur started to mark each village the group had heard reports of famine from, then sat back to eye the map critically. There was no clear pattern to indicate exactly where the sickness had come from, but there did appear to be more reports farther north. It was definitely worse up there, so it seemed like a good place to start.

"What purpose could a sorcerer have for cursing this land?" Sir Lucan asked, staring down at the map thoughtfully. "Magic isn't outlawed here. In Dunloch's market I saw at least eight different vendors selling magical charms and remedies."

Arthur shrugged. "Maybe his king wronged him in some way...Or he's attempting to weaken the kingdom so it's easier to overtake. A starving army cannot hope to stand against a powerful sorcerer."

"Why come to Camelot then?"

Arthur sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I just don't know. Whatever the reason though, he needs to be stopped. He has attacked this land _and_ Camelot. I can't imagine he'll stop there."

The official reason for the quest was to hunt down a powerful sorcerer hell-bent on destroying Camelot and her king. Arthur had hardly even mentioned Merlin to the council, but though he would deny it if asked, the sorcerer came secondary to finding Merlin. He was sure only Guinevere and Gaius truly knew why he was trying so hard, though others may suspect.

"Well," Gwaine said with determination. "We'll just have to ask the bastard when we find him, won't we?"

Arthur nodded, his eyes turning cold at the thought of what he'd do when he found the man who had, hopefully, taken Merlin. "Pack up. We head north in five minutes."

* * *

Hearing about it from travelers' gossip was one thing. Actually seeing the famine with his own eyes was something entirely different.

The further north the group traveled the worse the land looked. They passed several dried up streams and even the rivers looked far too shallow. They refilled their waterskins as often as possible, just in case the rivers emptied completely.

The villages were even worse. The farmers were harvesting their crops early in a desperate attempt to salvage what they could before their fields rotted. Half the houses had been abandoned. Children cried from hunger and their mothers cried from their children's pain.

The next village they passed through had five fresh graves.

"What is the king doing about this?" Sir Kay asked quietly as yet another disheartened family leaving their home passed the group as they made their way towards Tull.

Arthur shook his head sadly, but had nothing to say about it. They had hardly heard anything about the king in their travels. From what he gathered, the citizens were for the most part and independent people who liked to solve their problems themselves rather than go to their king to help. Besides, most of the people seemed to think it was a sickness of the land rather than the work of a malicious sorcerer. What would they ask their king to do to fight the land itself?

Their party spent the rest of the journey to Tull in silence, and for a long moment after they reached the village they remained that way.

Percival, oddly enough, was the first to break the shocked silence. "It's a ghost town."

Every house was silent and empty. There weren't even any wild animals wandering around, looting the abandoned homes for food. Arthur couldn't spot so much as a rat. Most of the fields were completely barren, as if nothing had even been planted. The ones that did have crops weren't any better though. The dead stalks were short and scraggly and had long since fallen to the dirt to rot.

Gwaine went to check the well for water to refill their skins, but the bucket came back with nothing but mud.

"We have to be getting closer." Lucan stated, and Arthur couldn't help but agree.

Gwaine dropped the bucket back into the well and opened his mouth to say something before freezing. His head turned to the side to stare at something in the distance.

"Gwaine?" Arthur asked, looking to the trees. He couldn't see anything, not even the tiniest movement.

"I thought I heard something." The knights all fell silent to listen and for a moment, they heard nothing.

Then a child's scream tore through the air.

Arthur swung back up onto his horse and took off at a gallop into the woods, his men close behind him. The scene that he found when he broke into a clearing was...unexpected, to say the least.

A bandit was dragging a small boy no more than eight summers old towards the treeline - and Arthur, though that part was surely unintentional. Behind him were five more bandits locked into battle with...an old man and a woman.

The bandit with the boy reeled back in surprise when Arthur and his men broke through the trees, but only for a moment. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the boy up in his arms to use as a shield. "Stay back!" He shouted, drawing a long dagger and pressing it to the boy's neck.

Arthur dismounted and drew his sword, but didn't approach yet. "Let the boy go." He said, pushing down his anger and disgust when he saw that the boy was in chains.

His men left him to deal with the bandit and his hostage and went to help dispatch the others. The bandit glanced to his left at the sound of one of his friends screaming as he died. Fear entered his eyes for the first time as he realized that he was now outnumbered.

He pressed the dagger closer to the boy's neck, drawing a drop of blood from the pale skin. "What, so you can kill me?" He started to slowly back away, towards the trees. "I don't think so."

There was a short cry of pain from the woman and in that instant Arthur saw the fear in the boy's bright green eyes turn to fury. Throwing self-preservation aside, the child snarled in anger, reached down and drew another knife from the bandit's belt and thrust it into the man's thigh.

The bandit shouted in pain and dropped the boy on the ground before staggering back and grabbing his injured leg. Arthur lunged forward and grabbed the boy's collar with one hand, dragging him behind him while simultaneously striking at the bandit's gut with his sword.

The bandit gaped like a fish for a moment before falling to the ground, dead.

Arthur turned away to look back at the rest of the skirmish, only to get the bloodied point of a sword at his neck.

A pair of angry green eyes glared at him from the face of a young woman, about the same age as himself. She was a few inches shorter than Gwen, slender, and dressed in trousers, a tunic and dark cloak. Her hair was dark red and done in hundreds of tiny braids, then twisted into a bun and held in place with what appeared to be a very thin, curved and sheathed dagger.

If her intimidating appearance wasn't enough, the fact that she was able to raise a sword longer than her arm higher than her head without the tip shaking in the slightest told Arthur that this wasn't a woman to be trifled with. He was instantly reminded of Morgana.

In a second his knights stood behind her, swords raised threateningly, but Arthur gave them all a quick glare. "Stand down." The knights lowered their swords and took a step back, but still watched the woman cautiously.

"Release him." The woman ordered, ignoring the knights and keeping her eyes on Arthur. For half a second Arthur was confused, then he realized that he was still holding onto the boy's collar.

He lowered his sword to the ground and let go of the child. The boy ran forwards and the woman caught him with her free arm and pulled him close to her before lowering her sword. "Who are you?" She demanded, still not taking her eyes off of him.

"My name is Arthur. I mean you no harm."

Apparently deciding that Arthur could handle himself against a woman, Gwaine and Percival went to search the bodies.

The woman watched him suspiciously for another moment before nodding and kneeling next to the child to look him over. She took his hands gently in her own and shifted the manacles higher up his tiny wrists to reveal bruises and chafing on the skin.

Anger flashed in her eyes again briefly, then her expression softened again. "They dinnae hurt you anywhere else?"

The boy shook his head. "I'm alright." His eyes drifted over to a small, dark stain on the woman's left bicep. "They hurt you."

The woman smiled gently at the boy and shook her head. "'Tis just a scratch, babby." She whispered a few words under her breath, then leaned forwards to plant a kiss on one of the boy's wrists. Her green eyes glowed gold for a moment and the bruises faded slightly.

Arthur took an instinctive step back and had to force himself not to raise his sword again. "You have magic." He stated, managing to mostly keep the accusatory tone from his voice.

She looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Aye. What's it to you?"

Arthur watched her for a moment before shaking his head. "Nothing. I was just startled, that's all."

"Oi, Princess!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath before walking over to check what Gwaine had found. The scruffy knight held out a dagger to Arthur and he took it, turning it over in his hands to examine it.

At first glance it appeared to be a regular, if well-made, weapon. It was sturdy, functional, perfectly balanced and sharp. What made it interesting to Gwaine, however, was not its quality, but what was engraved on the pommel.

A pattern of interlocking circles and lines.


	5. Chapter IV

**First of all I'd like to thank everyone who is reading this. Y'all are awesome.**

 **Second of all I'd like to apologize to any Gaelic-speaking readers I might have for my horrible, horrible translation. I did my best, but my best was shit. :) Oh well.**

* * *

 **Chapter IV**

For a moment Arthur just stared down at the knife in his hand. Gwaine cleared his throat abruptly, snapping Arthur out of it. He spun around to face the woman again. "Who are these people? What did they want with the boy?"

"They wanted him for their army." A deep, quiet voice said from behind him.

Arthur turned around again, realizing that he'd all but forgotten about the old man who had been fighting as well. He was tall and had dark, weathered skin and long silver hair. He was dressed much like the woman was, but he also carried a long wooden staff.

"What army?" Arthur demanded.

"The _Faileasach Dàn_." The man said simply. Arthur noted that he sounded like he was from the south and briefly wondered why he was so far from home, but didn't bother to mention it. It wasn't important. "They sometimes take children. If they take them young they are easier to bend to their wills."

The man's nose wrinkled in disgust for a moment, then his expression softened into fondness. "But I think they would have had a hard time with young Callum. He is as willful as his mother."

"He was out foraging near our village two days ago when they took him." The woman said, stepping closer, still holding the boy close. "We tracked him 'ere."

"Where can I find the others?" Arthur asked urgently, tightening his grip on the knife.

The woman's green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why would ye go looking for them?" Her gaze darted from knight to knight before coming back to rest on Arthur. Her eyes lowered to the ring hanging from his neck.

Her expression morphed instantly from mere suspicion to hatred and she drew her sword again, pushing her son behind her. "You're one of them!"

Gwaine drew his own sword but Arthur held out a hand to stop him. "I assure you, I am not." He said, raising his other hand placatingly. It didn't seem to work; she still looked ready to run him through. "Last spring we were attacked by them. We defeated most of them but one, a sorcerer, got away. He took our friend with him."

Her gaze softened into something like sympathy and she lowered her sword again. "I'm sorry. You'd do best t' head home. Ye wilnae be finding your friend."

Gwaine bristled. "Look here, lady," He said coolly. "We've been searching for nearly six months now. We've been chasing our tails most of that time and now that we've finally got a solid lead, I am _not_ going to be giving up."

"Please," Arthur said, ignoring Gwaine's rant. "If you have any idea where we can find them..."

The woman hesitated, then shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry. I cannae help ye."

"Any information at all would be helpful. What do they want? Why do they need an army? How many are they?"

The woman shook her head again, more firmly this time. "I cannae help ye." She repeated, but Arthur had a strange feeling about it.

Apparently he wasn't the only one. "Can't or won't?" Gwaine challenged.

The woman met the knight's gaze unflinchingly. "Won't."

Gwaine bristled again and Arthur knew that he was considering punching her, woman or no, so he interrupted. "Why? You're clearly not one of them. Why are you helping them?"

The woman turned her gaze back to Arthur, and again he saw a flicker of hate in her eyes. She spat on the ground. "I would sooner die than help those bastarts. I'm trying t' help ye. None who goes against them survive."

"They've never tried throwing Percy at them." Lucan said.

The woman turned to look incredulously at the knight, who shrugged. "What? It's the truth."

"Gail." The old man said, though he wasn't looking at her. His dark eyes were fixed on Arthur. "Perhaps you should rethink your decision."

The woman, Gail, turned her gaze back to the old man. "I wilnae be responsible for their deaths."

"Destiny's touch is on this one. I have never sensed one so strong. He is not meant to die yet."

"That means nothing, Lailoken." Gail said. "Ye know that."

"The Faileasach Dàn may try to defy Destiny's hand, but Destiny is stronger than they think. She can fight back.

"I have felt her shifting these past months, as you know. Something terrible is stirring and it will take a great agent of Destiny to shift things back."

Gail scoffed, but she looked conflicted as she glanced at Arthur. "Ye and your visions. 'Tis all a bunch o' haver."

"She has led him here, now, same as she has led you."

"The bastarts that took Callum led me 'ere, not Destiny. I wilnae have a hand in this." With that, she gathered her son into her arms and abruptly vanished in a whirlwind of leaves.

"Wait!" Arthur took a desperate step forwards, but stopped and ran his hand through his hair. It was no use. She was gone. Gwaine cursed behind him and kicked one of the bodies viciously.

Lailoken shook his head, a slight smile suddenly playing on his lips as he gazed off into the distance. The old man was clearly mad, Arthur thought. "What was all that about?" He demanded.

The old man spoke, but still did not look at Arthur. "Do not worry, young King. You are on the path you are meant to walk. Do not stray and all will become clear. You will discover something of yourself and in doing so, find what Destiny needs."

"You can see the future?" Gwaine asked skeptically. "Then you can tell us where Merlin is, right?"

"I cannot see the future. I see only paths, of which there are many. I know not whether you will succeed or fail, but know that Destiny is on your side today, though her enemies are your enemies, and they are strong."

"I'd imagine they would have to be, to fight Destiny." Lucan put in, nodding sagely.

Arthur shot him a glare, but turned his attention back to Lailoken. "How did you know I was a king?"

"You have been an echo in Destiny for centuries. Your path is woven through many others. You are the Once and Future, though perhaps...not for long."

"What do you mean, not for long?" Arthur asked, not sure he'd ever been more confused in his life.

"Destiny can change. Paths can be switched or ended. Take care, young King. If you fail in your quest Albion will be set on a much darker path than you can imagine." Lailoken gave them a soft smile, then vanished in the same manner Gail and Callum had before him.

"Well," Gwaine said angrily after a moment of silence. "That was a whole lot of _not bloody helpful_."

"What now?" Alymere asked, looking as confused as the rest of them.

Arthur sighed and pushed his frustration aside. He needed to be a leader to his men. He couldn't sit and sulk or go punch a tree like he so desperately wanted. "Dusk is in a few hours. We head north as far as we can before the sun sets and then we make camp. We've just got to keep looking ourselves. We've made it this far without a guide."

A small part of him wanted to camp at Tull and sleep under a roof for the first time in weeks, but a much larger part wanted to never set foot in that eerie village again. Besides, he would hate to waste daylight, and the sooner they got moving the sooner they would find Merlin.

* * *

The group made camp fifteen miles north of Tull, at the edge of the forest. Knowing he would be unable to sleep after all that talk of destiny, Arthur took first watch and ordered the knights to sleep after they had finished their bland dinner of preserved meat.

Arthur drew his plain brown cloak tighter around his shoulders and settled down with his back to a tree. The forest, like all the previous ones, was eerily silent aside from the snores from a couple of his men. He had been listening to the silence for nearly two weeks now but it still set him on edge. It wasn't natural for a forest to have no life in it.

He was sick of it. Sick of silence, of slavers, of bandits, of dead ends and vague leads and chasing his own damn tail. He was sick of all of this. He needed to find Merlin and deal with this threat before he lost his mind.

 _Pathetic_ , he thought mirthlessly. _A king, feeling lost without his servant._ He hadn't realized quite how much he relied on Merlin until he was gone. Though, really, it was understandable. Merlin was more than just a servant, he was a friend. Arthur had lost too many friends already. He wasn't sure if he could stand to lose another.

Certainly not for the first time, Arthur wondered if he would really ever find his servant. The whole situation reminded him painfully of the time Morgana had vanished with Morgause and the months he had spent searching for her afterwards. She had come back in the end, but...

 _Shut up, Arthur. Merlin is_ not _Morgana._ He thought firmly. _The old man was right, Destiny or not. You_ are _heading the right way, and soon Merlin will be back in Camelot. Maybe a bit worse for wear, but okay and safe._

Wishing desperately for something to distract him, Arthur turned his attention to the horizon. It seemed that the forests were behind them for now. He wasn't too happy about that as far as stealth and safety was concerned, but at the same time he was glad for a bit of a change of scenery. As far as the eye could see, which wasn't very far to be honest, was nothing but wide, sloping hills and valleys. Arthur supposed the land used to be quite beautiful, probably a rich green, maybe with some herds of sheep roaming the hills here and there.

Now the grass was dry and brown and there wasn't a wildflower to be seen anywhere. A dry streambed twisted through a shallow valley, the dirt cracked and crumbling. Even the sunset seemed a little duller than normal, though that was probably just his imagination.

 _Damn sorcerer._ Arthur groaned quietly when he realized where his thoughts had wandered yet again and he thumped the back of his head against the tree in frustration.

He heard a soft shuffling behind him, then the unmistakable sound of someone tripping over someone else and the subsequent muffled curses. A few seconds later Gwaine dropped down to sit on the ground beside him.

"Can't sleep again?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the knight but couldn't muster up enough annoyance to actually glare. He was right, after all. "I've been thinking about what that old man said."

"He said a bunch of hooey, that's what."

"But he did know I was a king." Arthur pointed out.

"He also sounded like he was from the south. Maybe he's from Camelot and recognized you."

Arthur shook his head. "I don't think that's it. He seemed completely convinced that what he was saying was the truth. And he's clearly a sorcerer. Maybe he knows what he's talking about."

"Since when have you trusted sorcerers?"

Arthur swallowed, remembering the last time he had trusted another seemingly harmless old man. "I don't. But I just can't completely disregard what he said, either. It's bothering me."

Gwaine was silent for a moment, and when he spoke he sounded smugly satisfied. "You're learning. About time, too."

Arthur grinned and elbowed Gwaine in the side before remembering he wasn't Merlin. The smile slipped off his face and he stared off into the dark hills again.

"You should be sleeping." Arthur scolded quietly.

"Likewise." Gwaine replied. "You've been taking nearly half the watches lately."

"And _you've_ been taking the other half." Arthur pointed out with a roll of his eyes. "You're sleeping as little as I am."

"Yes well, people expect _me_ to do something irresponsible like that and fall asleep on the job. You're supposed to be the grown-up here."

"You're older than me, Gwaine."

"And you're the King. It would be downright embarrassing for you to faint and fall down one of those hills tomorrow. Or in front of the sorcerer..."

Arthur glared, but knew he was right. If he didn't even try to sleep he would have no one to blame but himself when the sorcerer defeated him. He couldn't let his men be killed because he was too exhausted to lift a sword.

Gwaine nudged him. "Go to sleep, Princess. I"ll keep watch."

"You need to sleep as much as I do." Arthur argued.

"If you go to sleep I'll wake Percival in an hour." Gwaine replied. "I promise. Now git."

Arthur sighed and stood, brushing off his cloak. Normally he would argue that _he_ was King and _he_ gave the orders, but he was too tired. He'd only taken a couple of steps towards the fire when he paused and put his hand on Gwaine's shoulder reassuringly. "We _will_ find him soon. We're getting close."

Gwaine nodded, but didn't reply as Arthur made his way towards his bedroll and lay down. He didn't expect to be able to sleep for hours yet but, despite his raging mind, the king was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the ground.

* * *

 _Arthur trudged through the underbrush, listening to the sounds of his servant trudging along behind him._ Way _behind him. Merlin's footsteps stopped abruptly._

" _Keep up,_ Mer _lin!" Arthur called over his shoulder._

" _You're running out of time."_

" _What?" Arthur turned around and saw the cliff face before him, and Merlin standing at the top. A pit of dread settled in Arthur's stomach._ Not again.

" _Merlin? Get down from there, now." He ordered, his voice betraying his panic._

" _Destiny is changing, Arthur. Can't you feel it?"_

" _You're talking nonsense. Come talk nonsense down here where it's safe."_

" _You need to hurry. The land is dying with me and you need to stop it. What if Camelot is next?"_

" _Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. You're not dying. Come dow-wait. Stay there, I'm coming up to you."_

 _Merlin looked down at him, eyes wide with fear and pain. "Hurry."_

 _Then the shadowed figure stepped up behind him again and pushed him off the edge._


	6. Chapter V

_**One thousand**_ **views? I'm not gonna lie, guys, tears were shed. Badass tears of...naw, nevermind, I'm not even going to try. It was embarrassing. Y'all made my day.  
**

 **I'm getting really excited about this story. This story and Star Wars (Fifty-five days! But who's counting?). I won't spoil anything, but stuff's gonna start picking up pretty soon.**

 **ALSO, this is now officially the longest chapter yet, even if it is only the longest by about fifty words...**

* * *

 **Chapter V**

Crossing the open hills made Arthur nervous and jumpy, but even that wasn't quite enough to combat the state of constant fatigue he found himself in. He couldn't remember the last time he had a good night's sleep. From the looks of Gwaine, the knight was in a similar state. Arthur wondered if he had kept his promise the night before and decided after a moment of thought that he probably hadn't.

For the first time since they had entered this accursed land, Arthur was thankful for the silence. He and, apparently, one or two of his knights, were not their most alert. The area may be perfect for an ambush, but they should be able to hear anyone coming in plenty of time to prepare.

"Sire, there's Elwick." Alymere said suddenly, and Arthur could hear the relief in the knight's voice. Apparently he wasn't the only one made nervous by the terrain. His knights were not cowards, not by far, but the threat of an ambush by sorcerers had put them all on edge.

"Good," Arthur said emotionlessly as he looked up at the distant city's grey walls. "We should have a few hours to investigate before nightfall. We'll spend the night in the city."

"Excellent!" Lucan said with relief. "I didn't much fancy sleeping out here in the open."

In that moment, Arthur couldn't help but agree. However, the closer they got to the city the more he wondered if perhaps they _would_ be safer sleeping on the hills. The city of Elwick was as still as the rest of the land. The flags hung limp, without even the slightest breeze to ruffle them. No merchants or travelers came to or from the gates besides them, and from the looks of the ground, there had been very few others recently.

Guards still stood at their posts, but they were as still and silent as the city, not talking or joking to pass the time. Still, Arthur took it as a good sign. The place clearly wasn't completely abandoned if they were still bothering to guard it.

The guards watched them suspiciously as they passed through the gates, but let them through without trouble.

The inside of the city was just as bad as the outside. A handful of tired-looking peasants wandered despondently from place to place, completing their daily tasks but obviously taking no joy in them. A few glanced up as the group led their horses past, but no one cared enough to stop and watch or talk to them.

"This place gives me the creeps." Gwaine muttered under his breath, not wanting to break the near silence.

Arthur nodded in agreement. "Spread out. Same as Dunloch." He pointed at a nearby tavern, _The Wandering Star_. "We'll meet back there in an hour."

* * *

Two hours later found Arthur, Gwaine, Lucan and Kay loitering in the dark outside the tavern's stable, impatiently waiting for their absent cohorts.

"This is becoming a pattern." Lucan said with a sigh after yet another long silence.

"Think we should look for them?" Kay asked.

Arthur leaned away from the tavern wall to peer around the corner, only to jump back in surprise when Percival almost ran right into him.

"Where have you been?" Arthur demanded, glancing behind him to confirm that Alymere was with him. "You're clearly not dead."

"Which means Kay can finally calm down. The man was about to enter full-blown panic." Gwaine said with a grin.

"I was not! I was m-"

"We ran into someone." Percival interrupted. It wasn't like the knight to talk over people, or to talk so quickly. Whoever they had run into had gotten him excited.

"Who?" Arthur asked, though he need not have. A second later a cloaked figure stepped up from behind Alymere and lowered his hood to smile grimly at them.

"It's good to see you, sire."

"Elyan?" Gwaine stepped forward to envelope the shorter knight in a bone-crushing hug.

" _Oof_ , _good to see you too Gwaine_." Elyan choked out, wincing in pain.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were searching in the west." Arthur inquired as Gwaine released the poor squashed man and clapped him on the shoulder.

"I was, until a couple of weeks ago." Elyan explained when he had gotten his breath back. Arthur thought there was something off about his tone, but didn't interrupt to ask about it. "We...we heard talk of a sorcerous cult up here and came to investigate. Rumour has it they were targeting _you_ , Arthur."

 _We_...Arthur looked behind Percival to see if anyone else was lurking in the shadows, but saw no one. "Weren't you with Sirs Bors and Gaheris?" Arthur asked. The niggling sense of dread planted itself firmly in his chest when Elyan shook his head.

"We found the cultists. Stumbled across them a week ago. There were only two of them but..." Elyan shook his head again. "They had magic. Powerful enough to rival Morgana, yet clumsy. It was as if they didn't know how to control it. Not that it mattered. It was still a slaughter.

"We managed to wound one of them, and the other grabbed him and vanished. They probably thought I was dead as well and didn't bother to stick around to check."

"You're wounded?"

Elyan shrugged and lifted the hem of his tunic to reveal bandages wrapped around his waist. "As I said, they had poor control of their magic. Most of the blast missed, I only caught the edge. It will heal."

Arthur nodded and Elyan dropped his tunic back into place. "Did you get any information from them? Where they're from or what their plans are?"

Elyan shook his head. "No. I'm almost certain they're behind the famine though. And they wore that symbol from the ring."

Gwaine cursed softly and glared at the dirt beneath his feet as if it was the source of his stress.

Arthur nodded tiredly. "We have found as much as well. Come, let us fill each other in inside. You look like you could use a hot meal."

"I'm surprised they're still open." Elyan said, looking at the light pouring out from under the tavern door. They could hear some activity from inside, an occasional shout or laugh, but far less than what one would hear this time of night at home.

"These people are stubborn." Gwaine said, making for the door. "Even as their home is dying they still insist on living. I like them. When I was in the area years ago, the taverns were almost always full of people ready to compete with. Lovely chaps."

Gwaine pushed open the door and the group filed in and found an empty table at the end of the room, away from the few other patrons. Besides the knights, the tavern contained two barmaids, four citizens, and a group of six men who were clearly fighters of some sort, judging by their muscles, scars, and swords. Possibly members of the city guard.

The group ordered soup and bread, but stayed away from the drink. The last thing any of them needed was to miss an important piece of information because their minds were too fuzzy to catch it.

Over dinner Arthur filled Elyan in on the relevant details of their side of the quest, including the vague hints of prophecy and destiny from the old man. When he was finished, Elyan put his head in his hand, rested his elbow on the table and sighed. "So we still don't know where they are or what they want. All we've got is a name."

"And some nonsense about paths." Gwaine added.

"Right. That."

"We're running out of time." Arthur said, echoing Merlin from his dream. "It's been nearly six months now. If they're planning to attack Camelot I doubt they'll wait much longer." He didn't need to voice his opinions on the amount of time Merlin had been missing. They all knew.

"So what do we do?" Alymere asked.

Before Arthur could answer the sound of a mug shattering against the bar interrupted their conversation. The tavern went utterly silent, every eye drawn to the soldiers at the bar.

The largest of the men, a towering figure even taller than Percival and twice as wide, had gotten to his feet. Pieces of his mug lay scattered across the bar in front of him and the ale dripped onto the floor, but he ignored the mess and instead focused on the pretty young barmaid he had in his grasp.

Arthur stood slowly, his hand on the hilt of Excalibur. The giant at the bar took no notice as he tightened his grip on the frightened girl's bodice and shook her roughly. "Now, gel, ye listen to _me_." He spat, making her flinch. "Ye stay right 'ere. _I_ say when ye can go."

"You're drunk." The girl said, and though she was obviously terrified her voice was full of fire.

"Aye," The man laughed, his free hand reaching out to touch the girl's breast. "And _ye_ , are beautiful..."

Arthur met Gwaine's gaze and they didn't have to speak to convey what they were both thinking. The pair drew their swords simultaneously, the other knights following suit a mere second behind.

 _So much for laying low_.

One of the giant's companions noticed the knights' approach before he did and nudged the giant, who Arthur now assumed to be their leader, and drew his own blade. The giant looked over at the king and sneered. The rest of his men fidgeted behind him and a couple drew swords, but none attacked yet.

"This ain't yer business."

"This is a tavern, mate." Gwaine said from beside Arthur, a sadistic smile playing on his face. "Nobody's business stays their own in a tavern. I suggest you let the lady go before this business gets personal."

The giant glared at Gwaine, then snarled and threw the girl away from him and into the opposite wall. He drew his sword and advanced several steps. "C'mon, lads. Let's teach these weaklings a lesson."

Arthur stepped forward and met the challenge head-on, Gwaine beside him to back him up. The giant's men spilled out clumsily around their leader, pushing and shoving to get to the knights first.

The giant swung his sword in a downward arc towards Arthur, who nimbly sidestepped the blow and simultaneously drove his left elbow hard into the face of one of the thugs who had tried to circle around his leader. The thug staggered back, clutching his broken nose and leaving Arthur free to slice upwards at the giant's side.

His blow landed, but barely cut through his opponent's leather armor and didn't seem to faze him in the slightest. The giant swung his sword again, this time at Gwaine, who deflected the blade but didn't have time to get out of the way when the brute slammed his head forward into Gwaine's skull.

Gwaine stumbled back into a table, but his new distance from his opponent didn't give him a respite. In seconds one of the thugs was on him, swinging furiously. Two of the others followed a second later, but Arthur didn't bother worrying about Gwaine's safety. Percival joined him in the fight and the king knew that the pair was plenty to beat three thugs. These were Camelot's finest knights, after all.

Arthur focused on the giant, cutting down a thug who foolishly got in the way. The giant swung at him again, and with a corpse in his way, Arthur had no choice but to catch the blade with his own this time. The shock of the impact radiated up his arms and into his shoulders, making even his neck ache with the strain. The man was certainly as strong as he looked.

His sword trapped, Arthur kicked out at the giant's knee. His foot connected and he heard a crack. The giant roared in pain and fell, landing hard on his good knee, dropping his sword to grab at the cracked one.

Arthur put his sword against the man's chest. "Surrender." He said, breathing heavily.

The man growled in fury. Drunk as he was, whatever rational thought he may have had was lost in the moment and he grabbed a dagger from his waist and lunged forward in an attempt to strike Arthur with the blade.

Arthur shoved his sword forward and grimaced as the steel slid easily into the man's lung. The dagger dropped to the floor and the man's brown eyes widened as his hand scrabbled for the gaping wound in his chest.

Arthur pulled Excalibur from the dying man's chest and let him fall back onto the floor. He looked up just in time to see Alymere dispatching the last thug. Lucan had a bloody cut on his sword arm, Elyan was pressing a hand to his old wound and Gwaine had been hit so hard in the head by the other man's skull that his forehead was actually _bleeding_ , but other than that his men appeared to be unharmed by the encounter.

Next he looked to the barmaid. Her bodice was torn and her hair rumpled, but she didn't seem to be harmed either. She looked at the knights in awe, then met Arthur's gaze and gave him a nod of gratitude. He returned the nod, then turned his gaze back to the gasping man on the floor.

Blood dribbled from the man's lips and ran down his cheek to the floor. He had apparently given up on trying to stem the flow of blood and, knowing he was about to die, his hand desperately searched his pocket. He pulled a rag and some sort of round silver trinket from his pocket, dropped the rag and brought the trinket up to press against his bloody lips.

But Arthur had stopped paying attention to the man when the rag hit the floor. Time seemed to slow as the king knelt on the tavern floor and carefully picked up the tattered, stained fabric as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Arthur?" Gwaine said from behind him, sounding concerned. "Are you-" He cut off mid-sentence and, for a second, went as still as Arthur.

Then he growled in fury and dropped to the floor next to Arthur. His fists tangled in the dying man's shirt and he lifted him off the floor and shook him roughly. "Where did you get that scarf?" He screamed in the man's face, shaking him again when he didn't get an answer. "Where _is he_?"

Arthur tore his eyes away from the red scarf in his hand to look at Gwaine, who was still clutching the man desperately. The man's eyes stared up at the ceiling and rapidly fogged over and faded to a pale blue instead of their previous brown. For just a second, looking into those dead blue eyes, Arthur imagined that they were Merlin's eyes.

He'd just killed their first solid lead to Merlin.

Elyan laid his hand on Gwaine's shoulder gently. "Gwaine, he's dead." He said softly.

Gwaine stared at the dead man in denial. "No... _No_!" He threw the man down on the floor and jumped to his feet.

Knowing he had to keep himself together for his men, Arthur stood as well and grabbed Gwaine's arm before he could storm off and do something stupid. Gwaine shook his arm out of Arthur's grasp and turned to face him, his eyes wild with anger and grief. "Dammit, Arthur, we were _so close_!" He shouted, his voice cracking but not quite turning into a sob.

Arthur grasped Gwaine's shoulder tightly. "I know." He said quietly.

He thought maybe he wouldn't be able to speak any louder around the lump in his throat, but when he stepped away from the distraught knight to address the rest of the tavern his voice was strong. "Does anyone here know who these men were?" He asked, and when he got no answer, he continued. "Please. I need to know who he was working for. Or where he's from, anything."

The barmaid shook her head apologetically. "I...I'd never seen him 'afore in my life. I thought they was mercenaries or summat. I'm terrible sorry, sirs. I wish I could 'elp ye."

Arthur nodded tightly and turned his head back to look at his knights. Percival was laying two coins down on the table as payment for their meal since Arthur had clearly forgotten. Arthur made a halfhearted mental note to thank the knight later, but forgot it almost immediately when he saw Gwaine.

Gwaine knelt down next to the corpse again, holding the silver trinket in his hand. Arthur only caught a glimpse of it before Gwaine's fingers wrapped around it, but it was enough to recognize the familiar symbol of circles and lines. Gwaine stood abruptly and hurled the medallion at a wall, screaming in frustration before storming out of the tavern.

Arthur followed, Merlin's scarf clenched tightly in his fist.


	7. Chapter VI

**7,000 words in 30 hours? Excuse me while I go massage my cramping fingers...**

* * *

 **Chapter VI**

"Gwaine, wait." Arthur called ahead as he followed the distraught knight. He caught Gwaine's arm again, only to get shaken off. Gwaine stopped, turned around and shoved Arthur hard in the chest.

"That son of a bitch knew where Merlin was, Arthur!" He said, taking a step away from his king and clenching his hands in his hair, likely so he wouldn't hit Arthur again. "He _knew_ , he had to. That was the same scarf, Merlin's scarf. Don't try to convince me it wasn't, I would know it anywhere."

"I _know_ Gwaine." Arthur said, looking down at the red fabric in his hand. It was dirtier than Merlin had ever kept it, and a bit more frayed. Arthur felt an irrational spike of anger when he thought of what that man had been using it for. Cleaning his boots? Blowing his nose? The disgusting man had clearly not washed it once since he got it. There was still a patch of dried blood on the edge that would have been closest to Merlin's right shoulder the last time he was wearing it.

"It's definitely his. I won't argue with you on this one." Arthur said, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to get the image of Merlin in that brute's hands out of his head.

Gwaine yelled in frustration again and kicked a post three times before finally calming down slightly and shoving his hands in his pockets and staring morosely at the ground.

Across the street Arthur saw his other knights leaving the tavern, but instead of following them they went to busy themselves with checking on the horses in the stable. Arthur knew they were just trying to give Arthur and Gwaine some space, and he was grateful.

Arthur sighed again and, for several moments, just stood beside Gwaine in silence. "I just killed our only solid clue." He said finally.

Gwaine didn't argue. "Why the hell did they take him?" The knight asked, sounding more hopeless than he had in months. "What would they want with a servant?"

At least there was one good thing they got out of this mess. Now there could be no doubt that Merlin had, in fact, been captured by the sorcerer all those months ago. Whether or not he was still alive though...Arthur pushed that thought aside and focused on Gwaine again. "Maybe they need someone to clean the floors in their lair." He joked weakly.

Gwaine gave him a look.

"Maybe they want information about Camelot." Arthur said, seriously this time. "Merlin knows the castle like the back of his hand, possibly even better than I. He also knows things about the army."

"You think they're torturing him for information." Gwaine said flatly.

Arthur flinched slightly. "It is a possibility."

"Six months, Arthur. Merlin would never betray Camelot. Do you really think they would interrogate someone that stubborn for six months? Surely they would have given up ages ago and found someone else."

"Don't start thinking like that again, Gwaine." Arthur said firmly, though he himself was fearing the same. That Merlin was no more than a rotting corpse in a shallow grave by now. "We need you focused."

Gwaine laughed hollowly. "Don't worry about that, Princess. Whether Merlin is alive or not I'm still going after these bastards. Every last one of them is going to wish they'd never been born when I'm through."

Normally Arthur wouldn't condone such sadism from one of his men, but it was impossible to chastise Gwaine for his bloodthirst when he himself felt the same.

They sat in silence for another long moment before Arthur finally spoke up again. "We'll find an inn, spend the night here and head out at first light. We know we're heading in the right direction, all we need to do is keep riding until we find them."

Gwaine looked up at Arthur for a moment before nodding and following him without a word.

* * *

 _Arthur wandered aimlessly through dead fields and empty hills, not knowing where he was going or what he was looking for, only that he didn't think he would ever find it._

" _Arthur, you dollop head. What are you doing out here?"_

 _Arthur stopped and turned around to see Merlin standing on the hill right behind him, dressed in his ceremonial servant's uniform and holding a silver goblet in his hand._

" _Out here all alone, wandering a wasteland looking for something you'll never find..." Merlin mused, a mocking expression on his face. Arthur noticed his eyes were sunken and his shoulder was stained with blood that trickled down his arm into the goblet in his hand. Merlin didn't seem to notice. "Not very king-like, is it? Shouldn't you be in Camelot, ruling or something kingish like that?"_

" _Merlin..." Arthur began, not really sure what to say. He ended up going with something utterly inane. "What are you wearing? What is this?"_

" _This," Merlin said with a dark smile that didn't suit him at all. "Is me, blatantly giving my life for yours." He suddenly lifted the goblet to his lips and drank the wine and his own blood._

 _Still smiling, he dropped the goblet to the ground. "It's fine." He said, then collapsed, choking._

" _Merlin!" Arthur cried, lunging forward and falling to his knees beside his poisoned friend. He checked his neck for a pulse and shook his head in denial when he didn't find one. "No...Merlin, this is_ not _fine. I can save you. I can still save you, wake up._ Merlin _!"_

 _A hand touched his shoulder and he turned his head to see Merlin standing behind him. "It_ is _fine. What is the life of a servant compared to that of a king?"_

" _You don't have to try to save me, Merlin, that's my job._ I'm _the warrior."_

" _And I the servant. That's all I do, Arthur. I serve you, whatever that takes. Watch, I'll do it again."_

" _No!" Arthur shouted, but it was too late. Merlin had already shoved past him and ran, straight into the wispy form of a Dorocha. His body froze in the air for a moment, then was thrown back._

 _Arthur scrambled forwards to reach his fallen friend again. He rolled him over carefully, his fingers nearly freezing, and looked into the dead, frozen face of his servant. "No...Merlin, you didn't have to."_

" _I didn't have to go with you to fight a dragon, either." Arthur looked up again to see his friend standing before him. He looked back down at the ground in front of him, but Merlin's body had vanished._

" _But I did. When you needed help in the Perilous Lands I came for you. I have faced wyverns, immortal soldiers, undead knights, bandits, ghosts, a_ troll _, and even Morgana. All for you, Arthur._

" _And tell me,_ Sire _, what have you ever done for me? Why haven't you come for me yet?"_

" _I..."_

" _You inspired this loyalty. I don't know how you did it, but you did." Merlin looked at the blood that ran down his arm and coated his hand. "This was you, Arthur. I did all this for you, and you were the one that made me want to. I wish I had never met you."_

" _Merlin─"_

" _You have no idea how many times I've saved your life." Merlin's voice came from behind him again, and he turned to see Merlin standing at the top of the cliff again, wrestling with the sorcerer even though he had to be in immense pain. "What's one more time?"_

" _Merlin, no!" Arthur screamed up at him, but it was no use._

 _Merlin took another step towards the edge, then suddenly lurched forward as if someone had pushed him. He fell, and Arthur watched as his friend and the sorcerer plummeted to their deaths._

 _They hit the ground in front of Arthur with a sickening, wet crunch. The bones in Merlin's legs were broken and shoved up to stab through his legs. His back was bent nearly double and his neck twisted all the way around to stare up at Arthur with pleading eyes. A pool of blood formed under the two entangled bodies and more trickled from Merlin's mouth and eyes._

" _All for you, Arthur." He whispered, giving Arthur one last stupid grin before his eyes fogged over and became colorless like the man in the tavern, his face still stretched in a gruesome grin._

" _No." Arthur sobbed, unable to tear his eyes away from the mangled corpses. Then he remembered and fury tore through him. Someone had pushed him. Someone had pushed him over the edge._

 _He looked up at the cliff's edge and saw a cloaked, shadowed figure staring down at him. He screamed in rage. That man would die. Arthur would tear every limb from his body with his bare hands then feed him to the dogs. He'd-_

 _The figure reached up and pulled off his hood, revealing the impassive, slightly confused face of Arthur Pendragon._

* * *

Arthur woke with a start, soaked in sweat with the sheets tangled around his legs. He took several moments just to get his breathing under control, then sat up to look around the room.

His men were all still asleep, even Gwaine, though judging by the soft muttering he wasn't sleeping any better than Arthur had. Dim light was beginning to filter through the single window, signaling that dawn was nearly upon them.

 _Good,_ Arthur thought. _I'm not getting back to sleep any time soon._

Quietly, so as not to wake his men, he got out of bed and got dressed, splashing cold water on his face to get the sweat off. Still shaking slightly, Arthur wandered around the room and packed up all their supplies, then headed down to the stables to ready the horses.

As he went through the routine of saddling the horses his shaking gradually stopped and his pulse slowed. The stables were surprisingly relaxing, with nothing but the smell of fresh hay and the sound of horses munching on their breakfast. He gently ran his hand up his horse's face and fed her one of their last carrots. Vegetables were getting harder and harder to find the further north they traveled.

Giving the mare a final pat on the head, he promised to get her a whole sack of them as soon as he could, then went to sit on a bench and wait for his knights to wake and tried his best to forget the image of Merlin laying in a tangle of blood and bones at his feet.

His best wasn't very good, but fortunately his knights followed him to the stable just a few minutes later.

"See, Kay," Lucan said as he opened the door. "He's not missing. I swear, you're worse than my mother."

"I was _not_ worried, Lucan." Kay said exasperatedly as he followed the knight in. He nodded to Arthur as the king stood and dusted off his trousers. "Sire."

Arthur returned the nod. "Is everyone ready to head out?"

"Yes, Sire." Alymere replied. "Gwaine was just paying the innkeep, he'll be here in a moment."

"Speak of the devil." Lucan said, stepping aside to let Gwaine through the door.

The knight looked terrible, like he'd hardly slept at all the night before. There were dark circles under his eyes and not a smile to be seen. Haggard though he may look, however, his face was set in determination and Arthur knew he wouldn't be distracted.

"Let's head out then."

* * *

The group spent the whole day traveling north through the silent and dead hills, but found nothing but more silence and a couple of abandoned villages. The land continued to get drier and more faded as they traveled until they had to watch for the gaping cracks in the dirt so they wouldn't break a horse's leg by accident.

Though they were clearly getting closer, Arthur's heart sank more and more with each hill they crested with no sign of life. When the sun set he wanted to press on, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep again anyway, but it would be foolish with the cracks and holes in the earth. Breaking a horse's leg would only slow them even more.

They found a small forest to make camp in. Arthur had thought that the open hills were bad, but the forest was almost worse. What few leaves the trees still had hung limp and rotting from the branches and several trees had broken and fallen over.

Still, it gave them a bit of cover from prying eyes and a place to tie the horses, so they made do. It was creepy, yes, but the King of Camelot and his finest knights were no cowards. The knights secured , fed and watered their mounts and laid out their bedrolls. Gwaine volunteered for first watch and Percival began preparing a bland dinner of dried meat and fruit.

They ate in silence, everyone either too tired, too nervous, or just too disheartened to try for conversation. They went to bed silently as well, most of the knights falling asleep within minutes after a long day of riding.

Arthur lay awake for hours, listening to the silence of the dead woods and his men's snores. Every time he closed his eyes to try to sleep he saw Merlin in a heap of broken bones. Eventually he gave up and stood quietly, muttered something to Gwaine about taking a leak and stalked off into the forest, hoping a walk would clear his head.

He couldn't help but feel as though he had already failed. It had been far too long. Merlin was already dead and it was all his fault.

 _All for you, Arthur._

Arthur abruptly stopped walking, spun around and drove his fist into a tree. He felt the skin on his knuckles bruising but he didn't stop. He punched again, listening to the satisfying slam and trying to drive his thoughts from his mind.

 _I'll be right here where I always am, by your side, protecting you. What have you ever done for me?_

 _Slam_. Merlin _had_ always been there for Arthur. What had Arthur ever done for him?

 _You_ really _are a total buffoon, aren't you, Merlin?_

 _Slam_. Oh yes, that's what.

 _I'm happy to be your servant, 'till the day I die._

 _Slam_. _Yeah, look where that got you_.

 _What is the life of a servant compared to that of a king?_

 _Slam._ Dammit, Merlin.

 _It's worth less than yours!_

 _Crunch_. Arthur's life wasn't worth anything. What good was a king who couldn't even protect his own friend? If Arthur had been lost, he was sure Merlin would have somehow found him by now. He always had. Arthur had failed his closest friend, and now he was failing his entire kingdom by not being able to track down the sorcerers. Camelot could be under attack _right now_ , and Arthur was sitting here in this wasteland, doing nothing.

 _Don't give up on me._

As he drew his arm back for another blow someone caught his wrist and held it in place. He spun around, left hand grabbing for his sword before he realized it was only Gwaine.

He wrenched his arm out of the knight's grasp and snapped angrily. "Aren't you supposed to be on watch?"

Gwaine shrugged nonchalantly. "It was about time to swap with Perc anyway. You got something against that tree? What did it do, trip you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Gwaine." Arthur sighed, sinking down to sit against aforementioned tree.

Gwaine sat down next to him and peered at him for a moment before speaking again. "You're bleeding."

Merlin's voice, saying the same thing all those months ago, echoed in Arthur's mind. He turned his head to glare at Gwaine. "What?"

"Your hand."

 _Your head._

Arthur looked down at his fist and scowled at the bloodied, swollen knuckles. "I'm fine." He ground out.

"No you're not."

Arthur didn't have the energy to argue.

"You're blaming yourself." It wasn't a question.

"Aren't you?" Arthur sighed, burying his head in his knees. Just for a moment he didn't care if one of his men saw him at his weakest. He decided to blame it on that blasted dream. It knocked him a bit off-center, that's all.

"No."

Arthur turned his head to look at Gwaine in surprise. "I would have thought, of all the knights, _you_ would be angry at me. I know you're more loyal to him than to me."

Arthur was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "Merlin didn't _fall_ , Gwaine. He stepped off that cliff on purpose, because he was hurt and couldn't fight. That was the only way he could get the sorcerer away from me and he did it without hesitation. He was willing to _kill himself_ for _me_."

Gwaine nodded. "I saw it. I did blame you, at first. But the past couple months I've been doing a lot of thinking, which is actually considerably easier to do when one is sober. Who knew? But that's a discussion for another time.

"It wasn't your fault Merlin stepped off that edge. He stepped off because _he's Merlin_. Merlin has always put others before himself. His selflessness is part of him. If he didn't have that he would still be here...but he wouldn't be Merlin, would he?

"And tell me, Arthur, would you really want it any other way?"

Arthur was silent for a few long minutes before speaking again, his voice barely above a whisper. "I still killed our lead."

"Look, Princess, if we fail in finding him I'll happily jump into the self-blame wagon with you. But as far as I'm concerned we haven't failed until we're dead, Merlin's dead or we've given up. I don't know about you, but I don't intend on letting any of those things happening.

"That man would have killed you if you hadn't killed him, then one of us would have killed him back and our search party would be down our second-best swordsman and Camelot would be down a king, leaving us no closer to finding Merlin or this 'Fallsack Den' cult."

Arthur looked up at the scruffy knight incredulously. "You're a lot like him, you know? Bumbling idiots one moment and then spouting words of wisdom the next."

Gwaine grinned and stood up, dusting off his trousers. "Well," He said, offering Arthur his hand. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Arthur smiled back and accepted the hand. "I wouldn't mean it any other way."

 _The people believe in you, Arthur. But it counts for nothing if you don't believe in yourself._

Gwaine pulled Arthur to his feet and clapped him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's get back to camp. We've got another long day of wandering around tomorrow."

Gwaine had only taken two steps towards the camp when Arthur grabbed his arm. "Wait,"

"What is─"

" _Ssh_!" Arthur held up a hand for silence and listened intently.

For a moment there was only the eerie silence of the dead forest, but then Arthur heard it again ─ a slight rustle of fabric behind him. Arthur drew his sword and spun around to face whoever it was who was creeping up on him.

The tip of a sword met his throat as his own mirrored the position. It was too dark to identify the person, but Arthur knew it wasn't one of his knights. None of his men would creep up behind him like that, and besides, the cloaked figure was far too slight to be one of the muscled knights.

Before Arthur could speak, the figure tsked. "Ach, we really must stop meeting like this." With her free hand, the figure reached up and pulled the hood off of her head, revealing braided red hair and shining green eyes.

"Gail, isn't it?" Arthur asked, not lowering his sword just yet. "What are you doing, creeping around these woods?"

Gail glanced briefly at Gwaine, who had also drawn his sword, then she took a step back and lowered her sword. "I made the mistake of talking to Lailoken, again. The auld codger can be well persuasive."

Arthur also took a step back and lowered his sword, eyeing the woman suspiciously. "You've changed your mind?"

The woman shrugged. "Lailoken told me of yer hand in Destiny. The man talks a lot o' rubbish, but he knows what's what."

"If you're willing to help us now, what can you tell us about who we're up against?" Arthur asked, hoping for some clarification.

"Destiny doesnae control us, she jist leads us. We are all on set paths, but there are times when we can change ways. Many folks' paths cross and tangle. If ye change yer path, ye can change a great many others as well.

"The Faileasach Dàn think themselves trapped by Destiny and her paths. They think they can change what must be and destroy the paths. Faileasach Dàn is 'Destiny's Mirror.' They wish to build their own paths and replace Destiny."

"Can they do that?" Gwaine asked incredulously.

Gail shook her head. "Nae. None can destroy Destiny. But they can entwine their paths with others and force them to stray. Lailoken says he can feel the paths changing. If they are nae stopped soon, our paths will all lead someplace terrible dark."

"Why wouldn't you help us before?" Arthur asked, still not ready to just trust this sorceress blindly.

Her expression turned sad and she glanced away from Arthur for just a second. Then her face hardened so fast that Arthur wondered if maybe he had imagined the moment of weakness. "Others have tried to stop them. They have all met the same fate. I wasnae willing to send any more to their deaths."

Arthur sensed there was more to the story, but he didn't press. "Why are you sending us then, if you think we will fail?"

"Lailoken told me of the Once and Future King and Emrys." Gail said cryptically. "If any was able to stand 'gainst the Mirror, surely it would be such a great force of Destiny as they."

"Say what?" Gwaine asked, screwing up his face in confusion.

Gail rolled her eyes and shoved her sword into its sheath. "Basically, ye have a good 'nuff shot at this for me to bet on ye."

"Why should we trust you?" Arthur demanded, still wary.

"Why nae?" Gail said with a shrug. "'Tis nae like yer gettin' much done fast on yer own. Ye'll get there without me, but ye'll likely ride right on past them first. Asides, there's six of ye, last I checked. Purty sure ye can take me on if I decide to attack ye."

Arthur considered her offer for a long moment, reminding himself of the last time he had trusted a sorcerer to help him save someone. Unable to think of a way betraying him could possibly help the woman, Arthur finally nodded and sheathed his sword. He offered her his hand. "We would welcome your assistance."

Gail flashed him a smile and accepted his hand. "Let us hope that Destiny is on our side."

Arthur Pendragon shook the hand of a sorceress, desperately hoping he wouldn't come to regret this decision.


	8. Chapter VII

**So, this chapter's a wee bit shorter than the last few and took far too long to write...I don't know why, but for some reason this one was hard. I'm no good at traveling scenes and transitions... :/ The next chapter may also take a bit, because I've got family visiting this week and will probably be busy doing all sorts of nonsense. When my siblings visit we tend to stay up past 3am being a bunch of big nerds (48 days until The Force Awakens! Again, not that I'm counting or anything...) and eating cake.**

* * *

 **Chapter VII**

"To be completely honest, I do nae ken where the Mirror is." Gail said as she spread their map out on the ground. The knights crouched in a circle with her while Arthur stood a couple of feet away, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

The knights had been confused when Arthur had brought a strange woman into their camp and woken them all up, but they seemed to have already accepted her help for the most part, though Lucan and Kay seemed slightly wary of her. Arthur was surprised at how easily the others had accepted her and her sorcerous ways, especially Alymere. She had created a fire with nothing but a word and a flash of golden eyes to cast light upon the map and Alymere hadn't even blinked. She had appeared to have difficulty lighting the fire, which relaxed Arthur a bit. She clearly wasn't very powerful, and therefore probably not very dangerous.

Still, Arthur was determined to watch her closely.

"If you don't know where they are, how do you plan on helping us find them?" The young king asked suspiciously.

Gail looked up at him and smiled wrily. "I ken ye do nae trust magic, but that just shows ye do nae understand it." She gestured expansively at the surrounding land. "Ye can see what happens without its help."

"What do you mean?" Arthur said, his frown deepening.

"Most magic comes from the very earth itself." Gail explained. "It runs through the soil, builds mountains, and gives life. Many sorcerers, myself included, use spells to call up this power for our use. We borrow it, shape it, then it returns to the land."

She raised her hand, palm up. "Léoht." She said, her eyes flashing gold for a second. A ball of light appeared in her hand, but it was dim and flickered. It lasted for a few seconds before dissipating into the air.

"The land has grown weak." She continued after her demonstration. "The magic is leaving it. I cannae ken why 'till I find the source, which is one of the reasons I help ye."

Arthur thought he understood, but it still didn't answer his question. "How does this help us find this cult?"

Gail pressed a hand to the ground and closed her eyes. "I can feel the magic leaving. It does nae feel happy 'bout it." She opened her eyes and looked back up at Arthur. "It is going north."

Well, that certainly didn't sound good. "Can you stop it?"

Gail snorted in a most unladylike manner. "Ye think I have that kind of command over the Old Religion? Nae. But someone started it, and whoever did is surely dangerous."

She looked back at the map on the ground and at the path they had marked out. "Ye were on the right track, mostly. But ye were gonna ride right past where I believe they are."

She drew a line across the map with her finger, starting at their current location and slanting east from their original route. "If we're gonna follow the magic, we need to head this way."

 _Great_ , Arthur thought. _We're following magic, guided by a sorceress, to find an extremely powerful cult. What could go wrong?_

"Well, then," Arthur said, looking to the horizon to see the sun just beginning to creep up past the hills. "What are we waiting for? Pack up, men. We're heading out in five."

He saw Gail's gaze follow him as he went to saddle his horse, and he couldn't help but feel like she was watching him as closely as he was watching her.

* * *

Arthur rode for several hours in complete silence, merely listening to his men and Gail talking behind him without making any attempt to join in the conversation. While Lucan and Kay remained wary, they made an effort to hide it. From what he could hear, Alymere was fast becoming friends with the sorceress.

Dusk was approaching far faster than Arthur would have liked, and there was still no sign of anything but more hills. He was beginning to fear that they would have to make camp again with no clear progress.

The sound of a horse riding up on his right broke Arthur from his thoughts. He turned his head to look at the rider and scowled when he saw who it was. The sorceress raised an eyebrow at his reaction, then sighed. "Ye do nae trust me."

"I'm not overly fond of magic." Arthur said, turning his head back to look straight ahead, though he still made sure to keep her in his peripheral vision. The images of Morgana taking the throne and Dragoon killing his father flashed through his mind. "Sorcerers tend to try to trick me into trusting them and then stab me in the back."

Gail laughed. "Ach, Arthur." She said, shaking her head. "Ye have nothing to worry yer bonnie wee head about, then."

"And why is that?"

"If I ever stab ye in the back, I'll use my sword." She said, patting the hilt at her hip fondly. "Ye have my word on that."

"Thanks..."

"Asides, I'm right rubbish at battle magics." Gail continued with a shrug. "I'm a simple village healer. I can fix up some wounds and a couple other tricks, but do nae expect me to be doin' any o' that tossin' people 'round business. If I could, do ye think I'd need to learn the sword? I suppose I _could_ light ye aflame or summat, but that's well inefficient, aye?"

Arthur had to admit she had a point there, though he briefly wondered if that last bit was a jab at the practice of burning sorcerers at the stake. He personally hadn't used that form of execution since his coronation, but it had certainly been popular, and therefore infamous, during his father's reign.

From what he'd seen during their last encounter the sorceress could hold her own pretty well with a sword. It takes years of dedication and training to get to that level of skill, not to mention strength and agility. Why would someone waste all that time when they could just choke the life from their enemies with a few words?

"If that is nae enough to make ye trust me, just remember I have my own reasons to help ye. I hate the Mirror more than I could ever hate ye."

Arthur gave her another wary glance, but eventually nodded. "Fair enough."

They rode on in silence for several more minutes before Arthur finally spoke again. "Last night you mentioned something about the Once and Future King and...Erris?"

"Emrys." Gail corrected, glancing his way. "Have you never heard the prophecies?"

"There are more than one?" Arthur asked in surprise.

Gail nodded. "Ye're well popular with the Seers, apparently."

"What do you know of them? If I'm supposed to be this king, who is Emrys?"

"I do nae ken who Emrys is, only what the Seers say." Gail pursed her lips in thought for a moment before continuing. "Lailoken says that the Once and Future King and Emrys will bring an age of peace the likes of which we have never seen. Once they themselves are united, they will in turn unite all of Albion. He says that together, they create a nigh unstoppable force."

She paused and glanced at Arthur, as if debating whether or not to disclose another detail, but then smiled grimly and shook her head.

"What?" Arthur asked impatiently. She was hiding something and he didn't like it.

The sorceress opened her mouth to speak again, then abruptly snapped it shut. Her head whipped around to the east so fast her braids slapped her in the face. Arthur likewise turned his head, but saw nothing but more hills. "There's nothing there."

Gail frowned, looking deeply disturbed. She halted her horse and quickly dismounted, still squinting off into the distance.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, following her gaze again and still seeing nothing. "If you're trying to change the subject, th─"

"Haud yer wheesht!" She snapped, dropping to a crouch to touch the ground.

Arthur frowned at the abrupt change of tone, then dismounted his own horse to stand beside the strange woman. The knights caught up and Arthur could see that Alymere was about to ask a question, so he held up a hand for silence.

Gail closed her eyes, but not before Arthur saw them flicker gold and he couldn't help the involuntary shudder that passed through him at the sight. A couple of tense seconds later she opened her once-again green eyes and stood, still looking to the east. She nodded towards the hills. "I think...I think we should ride that way."

"What?" Arthur asked, looking at her like she'd gone mad. "I thought you said the magic was heading _that_ way?" He gestured towards their previous direction.

She nodded. "It is. But...I can feel summat else. It's..." She shuddered violently, and for just a brief second, a look of pure terror crossed her features. She looked over at Arthur, her green eyes wide. "It's...nothing good. A few currents of the magic split off that way. Nothing like the rest, but..."

She shook her head. "I cannae explain it. But I think this is the right way to go. I got a feelin' in my gut."

"Your gut?" Gwaine asked skeptically. "You expect us to trust that? What if it turns out to be nothing and we've just wasted even more time?"

"Lailoken seems to think instinct is just Destiny's way of tellin' us the way. A nudge, so to speak."

Arthur remained silent as he considered his options. They would probably find something nasty in either direction, but which would lead them closer to Merlin? Though he may deny it, finding Merlin took priority over stopping the cultists. The cultists may be looking to strike at Camelot, but they had waited this long and Arthur didn't think they would attack yet. Merlin on the other hand, needed to be found _now_ if he was still alive.

His eyes met Gail's for a long moment. "You're sure?"

She only hesitated a second before nodding firmly. "Aye."

"Don't let me down." Whether intentional or not, there was a hint of a threat in Arthur's voice.

Gail studied the king standing before her with an expression Arthur couldn't read, then nodded again and mounted her horse.

Their new path led them to a deep valley that Arthur guessed had once contained a river. The group rode along the edge at the top, not wanting to trap themselves in a pit in case of an ambush. Nearly two hours into their ride Alymere suddenly straightened in his saddle and looked around, a bit like Gail had done before.

"Do you guys feel that?" He asked.

"It's called a sore bum, Al." Lucan said with a roll of his eyes. "It's what happens when you sit in a saddle all day for weeks..."

"No, it's like a weird tingle."

"Okay, that's a─"

"It's a ward." Gail interrupted.

"A what?" Arthur asked, turning in the saddle to look at the sorceress.

Her face was grim. "We just passed through a magical ward."

"Which means..." Arthur continued, not really liking where this was going.

Her eyes scanned the valley, clearly expecting to see something. "We've found them, and they ken we're here."

* * *

 **Aaand another cliffhanger. Sorry not sorry.**


	9. Chapter VIII

**Hey, all! My sincerest apologies for the unexpected delay. I meant to post ages ago, but a fat orange rabbit had other ideas. He clearly thought I should be playing with him instead of my laptop, so, naturally, he took matters into his own teeth and chewed through my power cord...**

 **Little git.**

* * *

 **Chapter VIII**

Gwaine let out a string of curses so vulgar Lucan tried to cover Kay's ears, only to get a slap upside the head for his trouble.

"We should attack as soon as possible, before they have time to prepare." Arthur said as he searched for any sign of the cult.

"I would agree," Gwaine said angrily. "If we actually knew where they were."

"There." Elyan interrupted, pointing at something in the valley.

Arthur followed the finger, but couldn't make anything out in the dying light. "I don't see anything." He admitted after a moment.

"It's a cave!" Alymere suddenly said when he spotted it. A second later Arthur saw it too.

It was a small opening, just barely wide enough to allow two men to walk through side by side. Arthur couldn't see any light or movement from within. Despite their enemy's apparent knowledge or their presence, the valley remained completely still and silent.

"This reeks of a trap." Kay said, voicing Arthur's own thoughts for him.

"My favorite." Gwaine said, dismounting and drawing his sword. The quiet fury Arthur had seen burning in the knight's eyes the last few months was now obvious and there for all to see.

Arthur put a hand on his shoulder before he could run of and do something stupid on his own. "We don't know if that's the only entrance."

"So? It's an entrance. That's good enough for me."

"It's also an exit. If there are more we don't know about and we all run in there, they could slip out the back and escape. If Merlin is in there, they could take him away and we'd be back where we started."

"We don't have time to search the whole valley, Arthur!"

Arthur nodded. "I know. Which is why Elyan is staying hidden here to keep watch."

"Wait, what?" Elyan blurted clearly not liking this plan. "Arthur, I─"

"─am wounded." Arthur interrupted reminding the knight of the burn on his side. "It will hinder you and you know it. I'm not saying you'll get in the way, but you aren't at your best, either. I need someone to watch in case they take Merlin out another opening and I also need my best men with me."

He looked directly into Elyan's eyes before continuing. "And I also need someone to report back home if we don't come back. I will not leave Guinevere waiting for nothing." That, and he didn't want to risk leaving her without her husband, best friend, _and_ brother all at once.

Arthur could tell that Elyan wanted to argue, but the knight sighed and nodded his head anyway. Arthur was grateful. He didn't have time to argue.

Arthur clapped him reassuringly on the shoulder. "Stay out of sight. If someone does come out do not engage them. Watch which direction they go and report to me when I return. If they have Merlin, follow, but keep your distance and mark your trail so we can follow you."

Elyan nodded again and Arthur turned to his other knights and his...sorceress, all of whom had dismounted by now and had their swords at the ready.

"If the ward alerted them to our presence they ken we're here. They have nae come out yet though, so we have to assume they are waiting for us inside or nae one's home." Gail said, and Arthur agreed.

"Let's go."

The group scrambled down the crumbling hillside with relative ease. Before entering the cave Arthur paused to listen, but the lightless tunnel was just as silent as the rest of the country. He turned his head to look back to where they had come from and noted with approval that Elyan was nowhere to be seen.

Arthur took a deep breath and stepped into the dark, Gwaine at his side and the rest at his back. He wasn't entirely comfortable with an armed sorceress walking directly behind him, but there was no way he was going to be able to convince Gwaine to be in the second row. He would just have to trust that she really did want these people dead and believed he was the one to give her that.

The tunnel wound and twisted through the hill for at least a quarter mile before the cave finally opened up. They had to go slowly, what with it being pitch black inside. No one could see their hands in front of their faces, and more than once Arthur started to turn his head and nearly yelled at Merlin for running into him, only to remember that it was just Alymere or Gail.

He spent the entire walk in silence.

The new "room" was it by some sort of blue glowing crystals that adorned the walls. The ceiling was at least twenty feet high and the room about the same distance across. There were two other tunnels set in the walls, one on the left and one dead ahead. The air smelled of water and stone, which was a nice change from the stench of the last several lairs they had stormed.

However, it was none of these things that caught Arthur's attention. Instead it was the row of a dozen hooded soldiers, all dressed in black leather armor with the Faileasach Dàn's sigil stamped in silver over their left breast in silver. Each man held a broadsword with the tip of the blade resting against the ground, their gloved hands clasped serenely on the pommels. For a second Arthur wondered if they were merely statues, but as Arthur's men filed into the room to stand in a line on either side of him the soldier in the center spoke.

"You shall not interfere with Destiny's Mirror." His deep, monotone voice echoed eerily throughout the chamber, but Arthur wasn't intimidated.

"If that's what you wanted, you should have stayed away from my friends and home." Arthur said, taking a step forward and raising Excalibur before him challengingly, his tone drenched in all the authority he possessed. "Stand aside."

Unfortunately, fanatics were rarely much for self-preservation. As one, the line of soldiers spun their swords around to hold them upright before them.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Gwaine said from Arthur's left.

"It does nae make a difference to me what they say." Gail snarled from his right, her voice drenched in hate. "The end will be the same."

The center soldier stepped forward and Arthur mirrored him, their swords clashing. Gail and the knights spread out on either side of him to challenge the others. Arthur deflected the first blow easily, though he could feel the power behind it. It jarred his shoulders and made his old leg wound ache, but he pushed past it, spun Excalibur around and feinted for the soldier's left side before switching to slice up at his shoulder.

Arthur's blow pushed the enemy soldier back and blood poured from the wound, but the soldier didn't seem to notice. He merely stepped forward again and struck out at Arthur's neck. Arthur dodged the blow easily with a sidestep, then thrust his sword forward into the soldier's stomach.

Still, despite the wound that should have been agonizing, the soldier continued to try to fight. His grasp became weak and the blade slipped out of his hand, but he reached up to try to wrap his fingers around Arthur's throat. Arthur simply stepped back, pulled Excalibur free and let the man fall dead to the floor.

With no time to ponder the man's strange actions, Arthur took a couple of steps towards where Gwaine was taking on two attackers at once and quickly dispatched one of them with a hard blow to the neck, nearly decapitating the man.

"Aim to kill!" Gail called out from behind him. "They are enchanted and do nae feel pain!"

 _Ah, that explains it_.

Arthur heard Lucan's grunt of pain, immediately followed by Kay's cry of anger, but had no time to turn and check on his men as two more soldiers advanced on him and Gwaine. It was easy to push aside his concern for his men, however. He knew Kay had Lucan's back and together the pair were a formidable force, despite their teasing. The pair could handle themselves...and each other, which is more than most can say about Lucan.

Arthur gutted one of his opponents and had to quickly duck under a blow from another that nearly took his head off. He deflected a second blow and managed to land a deep cut on the soldier's arm, but like his predecessor, this man didn't react. He swung his sword for Arthur's side, but Arthur easily deflected that one too and drove his elbow into the soldier's face out of habit, forgetting that that would do little to stop him.

Sure enough, the soldier was merely knocked back a step, not dazed as a normal opponent would be. He swiftly thrust his sword towards Arthur's gut, forcing the king to sidestep out of the way. He was just a touch too slow to avoid the blow completely, and the sword sliced across his ribs, cutting through his tunic but merely glancing off the chainmail hidden underneath and not doing any harm aside from a slight bruise.

Nonetheless, the soldier laughed in triumph at having landed a blow. Unfortunately for him, his elation distracted him enough for Arthur to flick aside his sword and drive Excalibur through his throat.

The giddy laughter turned into a desperate gurgle as he fell to join his comrades on the cavern floor.

Arthur turned away from the corpse, ready to face his next opponent, only to see Gail gutting the last man standing and Percival pulling his sword from a body on the floor. He let the tip of his sword sink towards the floor and looked around at his men in the dim light, happy to see that they were all still on their feet.

"Report." He ordered, stretching the aching, scarred muscle in his calf with a wince.

"Luc's hurt." Kay said, sounding like...he was trying not to laugh?

"I'm fine." Lucan said, sounding like he was trying not to cuss.

"Lucan." Arthur said, eyes narrowing.

"Someone stuck him in the arse." Gail said helpfully, producing a snort of laughter from Kay.

"Barely. It's not even bleeding anymore."

Arthur cleared his throat in annoyance. "Is everyone else alright?"

"We're fine, Arthur." Percival answered, clapping Lucan on the shoulder. Arthur saw a trickle of blood running down the knight's arm and wondered yet again what the man had against sleeves, but it was a small cut so he didn't comment.

He nodded and turned away from the rest of the group again and scowled at the two tunnels. This cult was dangerously full of surprises. He didn't think they could afford splitting up, but the thought of aimlessly wandering the tunnels for hours ─ possibly giving the cultists the chance to escape or call for reinforcements ─ made him feel ill.

A sudden spark of inspiration flared to life in his mind, followed instantly by now-familiar feelings of guilt and disgust with himself. His father would be ashamed of him for what he was doing.

But his father was not here. He was dead, and Arthur had decided long ago that he would do almost anything to keep Merlin from following his example.

"Gail," He said, his voice even, betraying nothing of his inner turmoil. "Which way, do you think?"

The sorceress sheathed her sword, shook a tiny braid away from her face and stepped over to the tunnel on the left. She put her hand against the wall of the tunnel and closed her eyes. Barely a second later she recoiled with a gasp, snatching her hand back and pressing it against her chest.

"What is it?" Arthur demanded.

Gail didn't respond right away. She stepped away from him and hesitantly brushed her fingers against one of the glowing crystals set into the walls of the cavern. "Those _bastarts_!" She cursed, pulling her hand away. "They are... _binding_ the magic of the earth. Trapping it in these crystals."

Arthur blinked, not quite understanding why that was a bad thing. Other than the bit about the cultists having a giant collection of power sitting here in the cave, anyway.

Gail frowned at his expression, clearly seeing his confusion. She began to try to explain, her voice dripping with venom. "It is nae the way of the world. The world is meant to flow one way, and they are forcing it to go a different way. They disrupt the cycle with this abomination. This is a foul perversion of what sorcery is supposed to be.

"They are nae merely storing it. They are attempting to _enslave_ it. They are changing its very essence. This can nae end well, for anyone."

"Can you release it?"

Gail reached out to touch the crystal again and as her eyes glowed gold the crystal glowed brighter along with them. She gasped again and staggered away from it, shaking her head. "Nae. I am nae powerful enough to free it. I do nae think any one sorceress could, nae all at once. Perhaps a group, or even Emrys. If I tried by myself I would likely get trapped in the spell and drawn in myself."

" _You_ could get trapped in there?" Alymere asked incredulously.

"My soul could. To try to release the magic I would have to...entwine myself with the spell that is pulling the magic in, then pull in the opposite direction to break the connection. I am nae strong enough. I would be trapped and my soul pulled in."

"I thought it just traps magic."

"Souls _are_ magic, Alymere." Gail said with a roll of her eyes at the knights' ignorance. "Blimey, ye lot do nae ken a thing, do ye? Where are ye from?"

"Is there no other way to break the spell?" Arthur cut in.

She nodded. "Aye, I'm sure there is. But I do nae ken how, so it does nae help us, does it?"

"Yeah yeah," Gwaine interrupted impatiently. "All this is very terrible. Where are the bastards?"

She glared at him, but then turned and pointed at the tunnel straight ahead of them. "The strongest concentration of power is that way. 'Tis my best guess."

"Then we're going that way." Arthur said, stepping into the tunnel.

Getting through this tunnel was faster than the previous one had been, mainly because there were several crystals along the walls that allowed them to see. The next room they found was similar to the previous one, but a little smaller and, much to Arthur's dismay, had at least a dozen other tunnels rather than just two to choose from. They could twist around in any direction, and some may be mere dead ends. A vague direction like Gail could give them wouldn't be enough.

 _This cave is a damn maze._ He thought bitterly.

This room had only four soldiers. Arthur ducked under the first swing of a sword, popped up and drove Excalibur up under the soldier's armor into his gut all in one smooth movement. On his right, Gail was swatting away her opponent's sword and on his left, Gwaine had already absconded with another one's with his signature move and ran him through with it.

Arthur turned his sword towards the fourth. The soldier's dark eyes darted behind him, towards Gail, and Arthur heard a body hitting the floor. The soldier immediately dropped his sword and thrust his hands into the air.

"I surrender!" He cried.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. This wasn't the typical behavior of a fanatic.

"I n-never really wanted t' join the army," The "soldier" continued, as if reading Arthur's mind. "I'm a farmer! I h-hardly even know how t' use a blade. I just wanted t' eat, ye know? They offered me food and sh-shelter."

Arthur raised the tip of his sword so it was inches away from the man's large nose. "Tell me where they keep the prisoners, and I might let you live."

"P-prisoners?" The man stammered, caught off guard. "There ain't no prisoners here, s-sir."

The tip of Excalibur pressed against his nose, drawing a single drop of blood. He tried to step back further, but his back was against the wall. "I swear! I don' know of any prisoners! T-there was one 'ere months back, but he's long gone now."

"Did you see them take him out? Which way did they go?" Gwaine demanded, stepping closer.

The man flinched. "N-no, I never seen 'em leave."

Arthur felt a cold pit settle in his stomach.

"What makes you think he's gone, then?" Gwaine continued.

"W-well, I..." The main trailed off, glancing between Gwaine and Arthur. Arthur knew he could read the fury in Gwaine's eyes and the dread in his own, and he clearly didn't want to feed either emotion.

Gwaine poked the man with his sword. "On with it!"

The man swallowed hard and glanced between them again. "I ain't 'eard any screams in ages."

* * *

 **What is this? A long delay _and_ a cliffhanger? I know, I'm terrible. I can't help myself. I tried, I really did. For at least three whole seconds!**

 **Don't worry though, Jasper isn't allowed near my cables anymore and I already have 1,600 words of the next chapter written, so it shouldn't take too long.**

 **In other news, y'all reached two and a half thousand views during my absence?! Whaaaat? Have a great Friday Thirteenth, y'all!**


	10. Chapter IX

**If any of you are in Paris, I want you to know you have my prayers.**

 **I thought I'd have this chapter up sooner, but I kept getting new plans for it and had to rewrite it a few times. Anyway, here it is!**

* * *

 **Chapter IX**

The cave was silent for a beat or two.

Arthur took a step back. "Which way?" He growled.

The man lifted a shaky finger to point down one of the tunnels. "Th-th-that way," he gasped. "Then an-nother l-left after that, s-straight down and a r-right. Please don't kill m-me, I n-never did nothing, I s-swear!"

Arthur nodded and lowered his sword, only to have Gail step past him and, without hesitation, run the soldier through.

"Ye joined up with _them_ ," She snarled, shoving the blade in further and getting right up in his face.

The soldier's dark eyes grew wide and glistened with tears and his mouth gaped like a fish. He choked, then coughed, spraying blood onto her face. She didn't flinch. She stepped back, pulling her bloodied sword out of his gut and letting him slump to the floor, leaving a smear of blood on the wall behind him.

"Foolish, foolish bastart." She whispered, shaking her head and wiping his blood from her cheek with her sleeve. There was something off about her voice, Arthur noticed. Like she wasn't talking about the dead man in front of her.

"That wasn't necessary." Arthur said.

"Aye, it was." Gail said firmly.

Gwaine pushed past Arthur, heading for the tunnel the soldier had pointed to. Arthur only saw his face for a second, but it was long enough to see the rage and terror that warred in his mind. Arthur watched Gail with suspicion for another brief moment, then turned to follow Gwaine. He had other things to worry about than an apparently bloodthirsty sorceress.

 _I ain't 'eard any screams in ages._

If Merlin was alive, he would get him back. If he was dead, he would avenge him.

He was close, one way or the other. He could feel it.

They followed the dead soldier's directions exactly, taking a left when the tunnel split and then a right when it split again. The next "room" of the cavern was clearly man-made, probably with the help of magic. It was long, perfectly rectangular, and had a row of pillars on each side. There was a raised stone dais of some sort near the back end with a stone podium in the center. The dais, podium, and floor were all made of the same stone, as if they had just grown that way. A large black tapestry hung on the wall behind the dais, embroidered with the symbol of intertwining circles and lines in silver thread.

It looked like a throne room, but without a throne.

The knights searched the room quickly, but it was a dead end and there was no sign of anyone.

"That son of a bitch lied to us." Gwaine fumed.

"No, I don't think he did." Alymere cut in, gazing at the tapestry.

Gwaine raised his arms at his sides and spun in a half circle, gesturing angrily at the empty room around him. "There's nothing here!"

Alymere drew his sword and raised it at...the tapestry. "If there's one thing I've learned about secret hideouts..." He said quietly, then flicked the tapestry aside with the tip of his sword, revealing a large, arched wooden door. "It's to never trust a tapestry."

Lucan clapped Alymere on the shoulder and grinned. "You're a genius, Al."

Arthur tried the door, only to find it was locked. Of course it was locked. "Percival."

Percival stepped forward to bash the door in, but Gail put a hand on his arm. "Ye lads are so noisy. Do nae underestimate the element of surprise."

She stepped past them, held her hand out towards the door, and whispered, "Aliese." The lock gave a quiet click, and when Arthur tried the door again, it swung open smoothly.

Beyond the door was a spiral staircase cut into the stone, lit with the same crystals as before. It wound in the opposite direction than a normal staircase, giving those coming up from below the advantage, but the air was quiet and still. It seemed that no one was here to defend whatever was at the bottom.

Or maybe there was no longer anything at the bottom to defend.

Arthur stepped onto the staircase, sword raised, just in case. The steps were only wide enough for one to go down at a time, so Gwaine stepped in right behind him.

Arthur counted thirty-seven steps before they reached the bottom, and even though this room was barely lit at all, he knew instantly that this was the right place. The room buzzed with so much power even he could feel it, but it wasn't a good sort of power. It made him anxious and jittery, like he wanted to turn tail and flee. If any magic corrupts, this is it.

The second thing Arthur noticed was the smell. Whereas the caves above had smelled of cold stone, water and dust, the air here smelled of blood, sweat, burnt metal and decay. He nearly suffocated right there, the urge to hold his breath was so strong.

Forcing himself to breathe, Arthur stepped further into the room, trying to make out anything in the darkness as his eyes adjusted. There were crystals here, too, but they were faded as if they were only half full and didn't give enough light for him to see clearly by. Still, they were set into the walls and therefore showed that the room was a large circle. Arthur thought he saw a ring of round pillars, much like the ones in the "throne room" upstairs.

As his eyes adjusted he could make out the tall, robed figure of a man standing in the center of the room, his back to the group, in front of what appeared to be a table. Arthur took another couple of silent steps toward him, sword raised, and realized the man was whispering. He couldn't make out what was being said, but he could tell they were words of the Old Religion.

The man abruptly fell silent and perfectly still. He stiffened momentarily, then let out a quiet breath of anger. "This is _very_ important, and ye've just gone and interrupted me. I was finally making some progress. Silas will be most displeased if ye delay me."

"Silas?" Arthur asked, his sword pointed directly at the man's back.

The man paused, then lifted his hands off of the table and turned around to face Arthur, thought Arthur still couldn't see his face because of the hood and the dim light. "Ah. Pendragon. Well, this is interesting. I thought it would take ye another two months, at least."

He looked past Arthur to Gail and nodded. "Oh, ye have the help of a sorceress. That explains it, though I must say, I'm surprised. A Pendragon, siding with our kind?

"Eh, 'tis of nae importance. Though, I do hate surprises. I need to have words with my spies, last I heard ye were heading completely the wrong direction."

"Are you the leader of the Faileasach Dàn?" Arthur demanded.

The man didn't seem impressed. "I must say, for royalty, yer manners are terrible." He shook his head and took a step forward, simultaneously giving Arthur a view of both his face and the table behind him. Or, more importantly, what was on the table.

A body.

The room was too dark to make out any features on the body even if its face hadn't been turned away from him. All Arthur could make out was dark hair and a full, shaggy beard.

The man standing before them, however, was a different matter entirely. Arthur recognized him immediately as the sorcerer who had gone over the cliff with Merlin.

Arthur didn't much want to think about the body just yet.

" _You_!" He snarled, focusing on his rage to distract him from his thoughts.

He raised Excalibur higher, poised to attack, only to have the sorcerer raise his hand and shout, "Ástryce!"

Arthur flew through the air much like he had in the forest and his back struck one of the pillars, though, luckily, this time his head was spared.

He heard Gwaine growl and Alymere shout. He got to his feet, wincing at the pain in his calf and back, just in time to see his knights charge the sorcerer. The sorcerer shouted another spell and a ball of flame shot towards Lucan and Kay, but dissipated harmlessly with a word from Gail. The sorceress staggered back, gasping for breath. She hadn't been lying when she had said using magic was hard lately. Arthur didn't have time to wonder why the sorcerer could call upon magic for aid with ease while Gail struggled.

The sorcerer threw Alymere back in the same manner he had thrown Arthur, then sent Gwaine back as well and summoned a wall of fire up between them. As Arthur rushed towards him he could hear the sorcerer chanting.

"Wíghéap! Fylste mec ond úre hàlig ærgeweorc!"

The wall of fire fell and Arthur wasted no time in leaping forwards, striking with his sword. The sorcerer's dark eyes flashed dangerously and, just before Arthur's sword pierced his gut, he sidestepped and shouted, "Ástryce!"

Again, Arthur was thrown back. The spell hit his chest with such force he felt and heard at least two of his ribs and probably his sternum crack. He heard the sorcerer shout something else through the ringing in his ears, followed immediately by the sound of stone cracking.

Arthur had to swallow a curse when a pillar directly behind him broke and began to fall towards him. He rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed, then pushed himself to his feet again, despite the stabbing pain in his chest.

 _Definitely broken._

Alymere narrowly dodged a fireball and slashed at the sorcerer with his sword, only to have it get stuck as if the very air had grabbed hold of it. The sorcerer began to summon another fireball while Alymere was vulnerable.

He was too powerful. How could they hope to fight a sorcerer? He was going to watch another one of his men die because he couldn't cross the damn room fast enough.

Just as Arthur had the thought, Percival stepped up beside Alymere and stabbed at the sorcerer's stomach. The fireball dissipated as the sorcerer scrambled to deflect the weapon, instead, and he managed to only knock it a few inches aside. The blade sliced through the sorcerer's side, making him stagger back in pain.

Arthur grinned. Of course. They would fight the sorcerer the way they always had. They had him outnumbered and, therefore, outmatched. No sorcerer could stand against Camelot's finest and win. Morgana had had an immortal army and still couldn't do it.

"Deáþscúan wíghéap! Bescyldian, tóflówan!" The sorcerer screamed in rage. What appeared to be a man made of shadows spilled from his body, followed by two more. They stood by the sorcerer, somehow seeming to be standing right in front of him yet behind him at the same time.

"It's just an illusion," Gail called to everyone in the room as they closed in on the sorcerer. The sorcerer was backing up, away from the table Arthur was trying very hard not to look at. He didn't appear to be retreating, merely trying to gain some extra space. Arthur could still see the sorcerer, but somehow couldn't pin down his location for sure. One second he would think he was standing in one place, only to blink and find he was ten feet to the left of that.

"It'll try t' get in yer heads and distract ye!"

 _Well, clearly_.

Percival struck out at a wisp of shadow that had begun to reach out at him. The tendril recoiled, then the shadow forms abruptly melted down the floor in unison. They hit the floor and billowed back up in thick clouds that obscured the sorcerer from their sight.

Just then, a dozen soldiers swarmed in from the staircase.

So much for outnumbering the sorcerer.

The knights regrouped tighter together, covering each other's backs to defend against the new threat. The stood in a small circle, all facing outward. Arthur had Gwaine on his right, Percival on his left and a sorceress, once again, at his back.

The soldiers, in turn, stood in a larger, looser circle around the trespassers, the magical shadows licking around their feet.

It wasn't until the sorcerer, now standing by the table and behind the soldiers, spoke that Arthur realized he had completely forgotten that he was still in the cave. He knew it was likely the shadow illusion's fault, but a part of him was still furious that he let the main threat completely slip his mind.

"Brothers, these men are here to interfere with our cause." The sorcerer said, addressing the soldiers and drawing a scoff (and, Arthur was sure, a roll of her eyes) from Gail. "They seek to keep us trapped in Destiny's cage. They are agents of Destiny. If they win this battle, so does She, henceforth enslaving us all further.

"Defeat them, and ye shall deal a great blow to Destiny."

The soldiers, as one, took a step towards them, closing their circle tighter. Arthur's group, in turn, took two steps forward and attacked. They may not have much time before more reinforcements came, and they all knew they wouldn't stand a chance against any more.

Arthur spun his sword around and sliced one man's hand off neatly at the wrist. The sword fell to the floor along with the severed appendage, but the soldier continued his swing anyway, not realizing for a couple of seconds that his hand had been cut off. He paused, looking down at his wrist in horror and leaving himself completely open to the stab that ended his life.

Arthur shoved the dead man back and let him fall, then raised Excalibur again just in time to deflect a blow from the next man. He swiped the sword aside then ducked under and around another sword from a second attacker, coming up and driving Excalibur through a gap in the man's armor at his armpit. The man dropped dead instantly, his heart torn open.

He spun around again to face the previous soldier, just in time to see Percival bashing his skull open for him.

While the soldiers were distracted Arthur took the opportunity to cut another one down, giving him a clear line of sight to the sorcerer across the room.

The sorcerer was placing his hands on the sides of the body's head, chanting something.

Disgust and fury welled up in Arthur until he was seeing red. What was this? Possession? Necromancy? Whatever the sorcerer was doing, it was wrong and needed to be stopped.

Arthur pressed forward, ignoring the stabbing pain from his cracked bones as he charged the sorcerer.

The sorcerer abruptly turned. His hands fell from the body's head and Arthur caught the gold briefly fading from his eyes before flaring back just as brightly. "Asælaþ!" He shouted.

The shadow figures rose up and slithered across the floor towards him, grabbing at his ankles and making him stumble. An icy numbness slowly worked its way up his legs. For just a second, Arthur thought it had actually taken his legs and they were gone.

 _It's an illusion. Just an illusion. Ignore it._

Despite knowing it wasn't real, Arthur found it increasingly difficult to walk through, making him an easy target. He struggled harder, but the sorcerer before him merely smiled.

"So judgmental, Pendragon." He tsked, shaking his head. "Ye do nae even ken who I am, and here ye are, tryin' t' kill me."

"You tried to kill me first!" Arthur spat childishly.

"Ye hold a serious grudge, anyone ever told ye that?"

Arthur growled and lunged forward again, but the sorcerer laughed in his face before vanishing in a whirlwind so strong it nearly knocked Arthur over.

He stumbled back a couple of steps before he realized that the shadows weren't grabbing at his ankles anymore. Either they had vanished with the sorcerer or, since he had momentarily forgotten them, they lost their hold on him. It was an illusion, after all.

Choosing to believe they were gone, Arthur refused to look at the ground. If they were still there, as soon as he looked at them they would get in his head again and make him believe they were real.

 _This really shouldn't work._ He thought.

Gwaine shouted his name and he spun around just in time to see two soldiers several feet behind him, advancing silently, as if they wore no armor at all.

Past them, the circles of fighters had broken. Lucan and Kay were fighting three men back-to-back. Several yards from them stood Percival and Alymere, the former of which was ferociously fighting a soldier almost as large as he while the latter sagged against the wall behind his friend, clutching at a heavily bleeding wound on his chest and looking pale as a sheet.

Several yards to the other side of Lucan and Kay, Gail was engaging the sorcerer by herself with nothing more than a sword and a few weak spells.

Gwaine was...well, Gwaine was standing directly behind one of Arthur's assailants with his sword through the man's back, of course. The dead soldier's counterpart was so surprised at his friend's demise he allowed himself to be distracted, making it a simple matter for Arthur to swipe the sword aside and run him through.

Arthur nodded his thanks to Gwaine before looking to where he had last seen the sorcerer.

The sorcerer stood before Gail. Her green eyes were wide with horror and pain, and his were glowing gold maliciously. His right hand was splayed against her forehead and with it he easily pushed her to her knees.

Her sword fell from limp fingers to the floor beside her. She stared up at him as if she wasn't really seeing him. Arthur saw a single tear slide down her cheek, smearing a trail in the blood that stained it.

Then her eyes closed, her lips parted and she screamed.

Arthur ran towards the pair, Gwaine at his side.

The sorcerer was so absorbed in whatever he was doing to Gail that he didn't notice until they were only fifteen feet away. He turned towards them with fury in his eyes. His hand fell from Gail's head but she remained where she was, eyes squeezed tightly shut, body shaking.

The sorcerer flung up his hand and shouted a spell, sending Arthur and Gwaine slamming into the ground with such force Arthur felt one of his already cracked ribs give. A stabbing, fiery pain erupted in his chest, followed a second later by the unmistakable sensation of blood trickling down his torso.

 _Dammit._

He winced and couldn't hide the quiet groan of pain that escaped his throat as he pushed himself to his knees.

"Forbaerne! Ácwele!" The sorcerer shouted again.

The moment the flames shot from the sorcerer's hand Arthur knew he wouldn't be able to dodge in time. His broken bones were slowing him and he wasn't in a position to move quickly anyway.

Still, he began to lurch to the side, not willing to give up just yet. As he did, time seemed to slow and several things happened at once.

Just before the flames reached him, Gwaine threw himself in the way, arms outstretched as though he was trying to catch the flames and give them a hug.

The knight swayed, then crumpled to the floor.

Kay let out a scream of pure, unadulterated rage from behind Gail and the sorcerer.

Gail opened her eyes, and though she spoke no spells, they blazed gold. She blinked several times, shook her head slowly, then looked up at the sorcerer standing before her. Her expression morphed from horrified confusion to cold anger. She wrapped her fingers around her sword's hilt and drove the blade up into the sorcerer's side.

The sorcerer gaped in confusion and turned his head to look down at Gail.

Gail smirked and pulled her sword free.

The sorcerer fell.

Behind him, Lucan did the same.

* * *

 **R.I.P., DwaejiTokki.**


	11. Chapter X

**Check out that word count, guys! OVER SEVEN THOUSAND! _Whaaat?_ Now lemme just add six more... **

**I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter X**

Arthur scrambled forward and carefully rolled Gwaine onto his back, holding his breath until the knight let out a quiet groan of pain. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but he was clearly still conscious, if only barely.

Gwaine let out a string of hoarse, but colorful curses.

Conscious and still himself, apparently.

"Gwaine, you fool." Arthur sighed as he inspected the damage. He gently peeled away the slightly smoking fabric of Gwaine's tunic and lifted the chainmail, revealing the charred skin underneath. The burn spread from the bottom right side of his ribcage up all the way to his shoulder and the right side of his neck.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"Some men are worth dying for." Gwaine choked out.

"Don't be so _dramatic_ , Gwaine. You're not going to die."

Gwaine laughed hoarsely. "It's the thought that counts, right? Besides," He coughed with a wince. "It wasn't just for you. Merlin...would have my ass if I...let something happen to you."

Arthur finished checking him over then put his hand briefly on Gwaine's unburnt shoulder. "I know. Don't move, you'll make it worse."

"Wouldn't...dream of it." Gwaine choked out, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain again.

Arthur stood, wrapping one arm around his broken ribs. He winced and had to lean on Excalibur for a moment when the movement initially jostled the one poking through his skin. Stars danced across his vision for a second or two, but then the pain became more manageable with the extra support.

Shaking it off, he walked towards the rest of his men. Gail remained on her knees, staring at her hands with blank, golden eyes. As he walked past her Arthur tapped her shoulder with the pommel of his sword to get her attention.

She looked up and stared right through him, and it was only then that Arthur realized that the sorceress was shaking.

But she was neither dying nor his responsibility, so he shook his head and moved on.

Kay was on his knees beside Lucan, gently cradling his closest friend─no, brother's─head on his lap, paying no mind to the gore that rapidly stained his trousers from Lucan's belly. Even in the dim light Arthur could see that the man had been disemboweled. He may be breathing still, but Arthur knew it wouldn't be for much longer.

His murderer lay ignored beside Lucan, four feet from his own severed head and sharing a pool of their blood.

Arthur cleared his throat and tore his eyes from Lucan and Kay. "Percival."

Percival was crouched beside Alymere, pressing his cloak against the wound on his fellow knight's chest. Alymere was leaning against the wall and pale as death, but his face was screwed up in pain so Arthur knew he was alive.

Percival didn't look up from his task, but he answered his sovereign nonetheless, his tone uncharacteristically clipped. "I'm uninjured. Alymere has lost a lot of blood, but I believe he will make it."

Arthur nodded. That was all he needed to know.

He took another step towards Kay and lay a hand on the young man's shaking shoulder. Lucan's eyes were closed and his face slack, but his chest still rose and fell almost imperceptibly.

"He was a good man." Arthur said softly. "One of the best."

"He's not gone yet." Kay snapped, gently stroking a lock of brown hair from his friend's forehead and paying no mind to the smear of blood his fingers left behind.

"I can...I can..." He trailed off, his head lowering and a sob escaping his lips when he realized there was nothing he could do to save him.

Arthur tightened his grip on Kay's shoulder comfortingly. "You can remember him. Honor him. He died a hero and we won't forget."

Kay shook Arthur's hand off his shoulder angrily. "He's still breathing! I won't give up yet!"

He looked around the cavern desperately before his tear-filled eyes landed on Gail. "Sorceress!" His voice cracked on the word, but there was hope in it. "You said before you're a physician, yes? Save him!"

Gail looked over at the knights with a distant expression, then blinked and stood on shaking legs. She stumbled towards them before falling to her knees again beside Lucan. Her gold eyes scanned the fallen knight's body before she lay her hand on his forehead.

She leaned back on her heels and shook her head.

Kay shook his own head a second later. "N-no...You're a sorceress! You can heal him, right? Please!"

"In a perfect world...aye, I could save him." Gail's golden gaze flicked up to meet Kay's unwaveringly. "But this world is anything but perfect. It's too late, there is nothing I can do. I am sorry."

"Horse shit!" Kay shouted. "You can't just let him die! I can't─" He choked on his words and quickly looked back down at his dying friend. He ran his hands tenderly through Lucan's hair, smearing more blood into it and not caring in the slightest.

"I don't have anyone else." He whispered. " _Please,_ just try something."

Gail looked at the desperate knight sadly. "I'm sorry. I cannae." She clenched her fists tightly in a vain attempt to stop their shaking. "Right now... I cannae control this magic. It would tear him apart. It could bring this whole cavern down on our heads."

Kay stared at the sorceress with more hatred than Arthur had ever seen in the normally happy, innocent young knight. "You're lying! You're a _sorceress_ , we never should have trusted you! I─"

He choked on his words again and abruptly clutched Lucan tighter to him, shaking his head desperately. Lucan's head lolled back and Arthur could see he breathed no more. "Luc...No. No. _No_."

Gail closed her eyes for a second, then slowly rose to her feet again. She stumbled backwards and nearly fell, but Arthur caught her elbow and steadied her. Even through the layers of fabric he could feel the burning heat of her flesh.

He frowned and nearly said something, but she pulled away from him and shook her head, so he held his tongue for now.

Kay carefully lay Lucan down on the cold stone floor in silence. Tenderly, he arranged his friend's arms across his chest as if he were only asleep, then he stood, took off his cloak and draped it over the body.

He stared down at his friend's corpse for several seconds before he finally looked up at Gail. His eyes, surprisingly, were dry and his face was stony. He stared at the sorceress for a few more seconds, then clenched his jaw and lunged for her throat.

Gail didn't move a muscle.

Kay was inches from strangling Gail when Arthur wrapped his arms around his torso from behind and yanked him back, grunting at the pain that shot through his ribs at the motion. He felt the skin around the protruding rib tear further and fresh blood ran down his side, but he grit his teeth and bore it.

Kay jerked out of his grasp embarrassingly easily, whirled around and punched Arthur in the eye. "She killed him! That bloody sorceress─"

"The soldiers killed him, Kay!" Arthur argued.

"No, it was _you_! You and this goddamn quest! Was it worth it, Arthur? For one man? Bors, Gaheris, Luc..." Kay screamed in grief and lunged for Arthur again, slamming into him and shoving him away.

Arthur felt the rib tear into his skin further and couldn't completely hold back the cry of pain. He stumbled back and doubled over, pressing his arm against his ribs as his vision flashed white again.

When he looked up again Kay was shaking his head and looking at him with eyes filled with guilt and despair. "S-Sire...I─"

Arthur cut the knight's apology short by straightening, stepping forward and pulling the grieving knight into an embrace despite the pain in his chest.

Kay rested his forehead on his king's shoulder and sobbed for his lost brother, and Arthur welcomed it. His own grief could come later. He had lost a friend, a warrior, a trusted knight. But Kay had lost his family. His grief came first and Arthur had to push aside his own and just comfort him.

"I'm sorry." Arthur murmured sincerely. Because Kay was right: Lucan's blood was on Arthur's hands, along with the blood of Bors, Gaheris, Lancelot and every other knight who had ever died under his command and every knight who would die for him in the future. There was nothing he could do to change or avoid the deaths of his knights. It was his responsibility as King to send his knights to their deaths to protect his people.

All he could do was make sure their deaths mean something.

"He's gone..." Kay whispered. "I don't...I can't..."

"You're not alone, Kay." Arthur said firmly, patting him on the back. "Remember that. You are not alone. He will be honored."

Kay nodded against Arthur's shoulder, but before he could say anything Percival's soft, serious voice came across the room.

"Arthur."

Kay stepped back from Arthur, turned away and walked back to kneel beside Lucan's body, leaving Arthur to see to his men. He met Gail's gaze again and nodded towards where Gwaine still lay, breathing heavily and clearly in pain. She gave him a nod in return and went to his side to see what she could do.

Arthur took a deep breath and turned his attention toward the thing he had been trying so hard to forget about.

The stone table.

Percival stood beside the table but watched Arthur, his eyes filled with so much horror Arthur could see it despite the distance. "Aly─"

Percival interrupted, his voice still in the soft tone that sent shivers of terror down Arthur's spine. "His bleeding has stopped. He'll be fine for a moment."

Arthur nodded, already walking towards the table when Percival continued.

"It's Merlin."

Arthur had been expecting it, but his breath caught anyway.

Because now he was finally close enough to get a good look.

Merlin was naked, laid out prostrate and spread-eagle on the stone table, his wrists and ankles shackled to iron rings embedded in the corners. The manacles and chains were carved with softly glowing runes. But Arthur hardly even noticed the restraints past the state he was in.

Arthur had never seen a person so thin. For a brief second, in the dim light, he thought he was merely looking at a skeleton. Surely no living person could be that thin?

"Is he..." Arthur began quietly, not managing anything more without inhaling, something he wasn't sure he was capable of at the moment.

"He's alive." Percival murmured back.

Arthur let out his breath and took another step closer. Now close enough to touch Merlin, he could see that Percival was right. Though it was weak, there was a clear rise and fall of his chest.

Arthur reached a hand out to touch his friend, but stopped himself inches away. He looked so frail he thought he would crumble to pieces if he touched him. Arthur let his hand fall and let his eyes travel over Merlin's abused body instead.

His skin was covered in bruises and welts across his entire body ─ fingerprints, belt marks, knuckle-shaped bruises ─ but they all paled in comparison to the marks on his back. Starting at the left shoulder someone had carved dozens of straight lines into his flesh, working their way down all the way to his waist over a long period of time. The ones at the top of his back were already healed into raised, angry scars, while the ones nearer his waist were fresh and raw.

It was a tally. The bastards had carved a _tally_ into Merlin's back.

Arthur forced himself to look past the wounds and, for a second, wished he hadn't, because the tally and the bruises weren't the worst by far.

The back of his right shoulder was littered with rough scars, the skin stretched tight over lumpy, misshapen bone. A piece of bone was even jutting straight out with new skin grown over it. It had to be absolute agony every time it moved.

The rest of the arm was better, but only marginally. His forearm was bent like it had been broken and allowed to heal without being set, and his fingers were the same. The flesh was dark and mottled, too dark to merely be bruised. This close, Arthur knew instantly that this was the source of the decay he had smelled upon first entering the room. Strangely, his left arm was entirely untouched, even restrained with a wide, black silk ribbon of sorts instead of the heavy manacles that trapped the other limbs.

For now, though, Arthur accepted this as a small blessing and moved on in his visual examination.

His legs were the same dark, mottled color as his right arm. It spread up from the manacles until it faded away just below his knees. It was as if the manacles were killing the flesh.

Not for the first time, Arthur was desperately wishing they had found Merlin in one of those slave pits they had searched months ago.

Finally gathering up the courage, Arthur reached forward and gently touched Merlin's left arm. Despite knowing he was alive, Arthur felt another pang of fear in his heart. Merlin was as cold as a corpse and didn't react to the touch at all.

"We need to get these off of him." Arthur said, snapping out of his horrified trance and instantly slipping back into the role of a leader. He yanked the cloak from his shoulders so hard the ties snapped painfully against his neck. He draped the dark cloak over his friend's body like a blanket, and though he knew it would hardly help his temperature, he felt better once he couldn't see the injuries anymore. "See if you can find a k─"

"Arthur?"

Arthur turned around at the sound of his name and saw Gwaine, idiot that he was, propping himself up on his elbows despite the strain it was putting on his burns. The pallor of his face rivaled Alymere's and sweat glistened on his brow, but he kept doing it anyway.

"It's Merlin, isn't it? Please, tell me it isn't him."

"He's alive."

A cold laugh interrupted them, followed by a series of wet coughs. "Not for long."

With the images of Merlin's broken, unconscious body fresh in Arthur's mind it was all he could do to not run the sorcerer through ─ again ─ right then and there. He turned his head slowly, his gaze icy cold, to face the apparently-not-dead-yet sorcerer.

The man was slumped against one of the pillars, soaked in blood and clutching his hands tightly against the wound in his side. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and dotted his chin.

"Explain yourself." Arthur demanded shortly, clenching his hands into fists.

"He's only alive now because he is bound to _me_. His life force is too weak to sustain himself for more than an hour or two...after I die, he will follow."

"Why the hell would you do that?" Gwaine asked hoarsely, somehow sounding more bewildered than angry.

The sorcerer shifted uncomfortably, as though he was embarrassed. "The lad is damn stubborn. Far more stubborn than I had thought possible. Kept escapin', tryin' t' run off, despite the 'infallible' chains. Only way t' keep him here was t' make it so he could do nothing on his own."

Arthur cursed and the sorcerer laughed, only to break into another coughing fit. "Gail, can you keep him alive?"

"Nae."

Arthur turned on her, bristling. "Why not? What's wrong with you? What did he do?"

She twitched and shot a glare at the dying sorcerer before answering. "He was trying t' sway me to his cause." She spat on the floor and clenched her fists again. "'Showing me the light' so to speak. Thought he could poison my mind with the possibilities of infinite power. _Enslaved_ power.

"He flooded me with his stolen magic. It's too much for me to control; it's all I can do to just keep a hold on it. If I let go it will either pull the cave down on our heads or be forced right back into its prison."

When she looked back up at Arthur he could clearly see the pain in her eyes. "It's _screaming_ , Arthur. It's hurting in ways ye cannae even imagine. I cannae send it back t' that."

"What of Merlin, then? I can't just─"

"What of Merlin?" Gail snapped back, interrupting him. "What of the land? Yer home? My home? My son? What of Albion?

"I'm sure he's a good lad and all, but he's just one man. Have ye forgotten the rest of yer kingdom? Ye would keep this bastart alive, let this...this _abomination_ continue to threaten not only this land and yours, but all of Albion, just to _maybe_ save one man? Do all the dead before him count for naught?"

Arthur clenched his jaw and couldn't help the glance he sent towards Lucan's cooling corpse and the hunched, defeated man that sat beside it.

"Ye think magic is evil and unnatural. Well, it could be. Ye've _seen_ what it could be. Ye'd just let that happen?"

She was right. Arthur knew she was right, but it didn't change anything. "I promised I'd save him. I told his mother...I looked right into her eyes and told her I'd do everything I could to bring him home. I owe him."

"Ye _did_ save him, Arthur." Gail said softly. "If ye hadn't come, no doubt this would have gone on for months more. Maybe years. Stop this madness, let them die, preserve the prophesies."

Arthur took a step towards Gail, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I don't care about your damned prophecies, or the Future King, or Emrys." He murmured, his voice so low it was nearly a growl. "Go find someone else to fulfill them. I'm not losing another friend today."

He spun away from Gail and her accursed, disapproving golden gaze to face the sorcerer again. "Tell me what you did to him." He demanded, straightening imposingly to his full height, forgetting his pain for a moment. If he knew what was done, he could, somehow, find how it could be _un_ done.

The sorcerer shook his head weakly, letting more blood trickle past his lips. "Nothing that dinna need t' be done. Now," He paused to laugh and break into a fit of wheezing coughs. "I cannae say the same 'bout the lads. T' only rule they 'ad when they got their turns...was t' keep 'im alive. 'Ad t'... 'fire' a coupl'a soldiers for...comin' close."

Arthur grit his teeth in impatience. "Enough riddles, sorcerer. Tell me what you were doing to him."

The sorcerer gave him a macabre, bloody grin. "I don't have...the time left...t' explain...even...if ye'd...believe. I've done...my part. Changed the currents...dealt a blow to...Destiny. My brothers...they will fight on. Destiny...will fall. Her shadow will rise."

With a shaking hand the sorcerer reached into his robes and drew out a glowing blue crystal and a pendant with his sigil. He pressed the items to his breast as though they were sacred. As he took his final breath his face softened into a contented smile. His grip relaxed and the crystal slipped from his hand to roll across the floor, but the pendant's chain remained twisted around his fingers.

Arthur clenched his jaw and took a deep, measured breath before turning away from the dead sorcerer.

" _Oh,_ " He heard Gail breath beside him. "I have it."

"Have what?"

"The current...He was the anchor. The magic was flowing to him...where..." She grunted as if in pain and fell to her knees, hugging herself.

"What are you doing?" Arthur demanded.

"I took it. I'm...the anchor." She ground out, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. "I cannae let it go...the crystals. It's too much. Ye need to get out. _Now_."

A tear slipped past her tightly closed eyelids as the air began to thrum with a nervous, fearful energy. The floor began to vibrate beneath Arthur's feet. Not wasting any more time, he spun around to face his men. "Alymere, can you walk?"

The knight grimaced and used the wall to pull himself to his feet. "Yes sir. Not for long, but I think I can make it outside at least."

Arthur nodded. "Gwaine?"

"More or less..."

"Percival, you're with me. Everyone else, get out of here. Don't argue with me, Gwaine, we'll be right behind you with Merlin."

Gwaine shut his mouth and reluctantly accepted Alymere's offered hand, letting the younger man help him to his feet. He swayed slightly, and for a second Arthur was afraid he would pass out, but Alymere tightened his grip on Gwaine's arm and they both remained standing. Alymere pulled Gwaine's arm over his own shoulder and the two knights leaned on each other for support as they began to shamble towards the staircase.

Arthur looked to Kay, but the knight was silently gathering Lucan into his arms and following the other two, his face worryingly blank.

"Do _not_ come back for us."

Gwaine muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Whatever you say, Princess." but Arthur paid him no mind. He was already crossing the room to Merlin.

"Percival, we need to get these chains off him. Did you find a key?"

"There isn't one. The manacles don't even have keyholes. I think they're magical."

"Alright, cut the chains. Elyan can look at the manacles later."

Percival drew his sword as the ceiling shuddered and stepped toward Merlin's ankles as Arthur dropped to his knees by his left wrist to untie the dark ribbon that restrained it. Merlin's wrist was just as cold as it had been, but this time Merlin shuddered along with the cave.

Still untying the ribbon, Arthur looked up at Merlin's face, getting a good look at him for the first time. His hair was long and greasy, falling across his eyes and obscuring most of his face, but there was no mistaking those cheekbones, even if they were more sunken than Arthur had ever seen them. His beard was full and matted, having grown into a mass of dirty tangles. There was something faintly green crusted into it, but Arthur didn't bother trying to identify it.

"Merlin?" He whispered, hoping that the movement was more than just a reflexive movement.

Merlin shuddered again and flinched away from Arthur's voice, but he remained completely silent. Arthur fumbled at the ribbon and had just gotten it untied when Percival cut through the first chain with his sword.

Merlin jerked violently, trying to get away from Arthur and Percival. His right arm wrenched against its chains so hard Arthur could hear splintered bones grinding against each other sickeningly, but Merlin still didn't make a sound.

 _What kind of agony had he endured that made him not react to that?_

Arthur had to swallow bile at the thought.

He grabbed Merlin's shoulders to immobilize him, hating himself for the increased panic and pain he knew he was causing. "Merlin! You're hurting yourself. Cam down, please. You're safe, we're getting you out."

Merlin didn't seem to hear, so Arthur just tightened his grip, feeling sick all over again at the sharp bones and rough scars under his hands. _It was never supposed to come to this._

"Percival, hurry." Arthur ordered just as Percival cut through the second chain on Merlin's ankles.

Percival stepped swiftly across the table to Merlin's right arm, raised his sword, and cut through the final chain with a single stroke.

Merlin ceased his struggles for a moment, though Arthur suspected it was more from exhaustion than actual relaxation. He was surprised he had had the strength to fight for as long as he had.

Gently, careful not to jostle the shattered shoulder more than absolutely necessary, Arthur turned Merlin over onto his left side and wrapped him tighter in his cloak to keep his arm against his body and prevent movement. He was so thin the cloak easily wrapped around his entire form.

"Get him out of here." Arthur ordered, knowing he wouldn't be able to carry even Merlin's skeletal body with his injuries. He'd likely pass out trying.

Percival gave him a quick, serious nod and gathered their now-limp friend in his strong arms. Arthur clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a nudge towards the staircase. " _Go_."

As Percival sprinted for the stairs Arthur turned back to Gail, who was still kneeling on the floor doubled over with her arms wrapped around herself. "Sorceress,"

"I told ye to get out." She ground out breathlessly.

"I don't leave people behind."

"I'm not one of yer people." The cave shuddered again and if she said anything else, it was drowned out by the deafening sound of cracking stone as one of the pillars fell.

"This place is coming down! You can't stay here." Arthur argued. His head pounded and his side throbbed more and more as the cave shook and aggravated his injuries.

"The magic..." Gail said, sweat beginning to drip from her brow. "I cannae hold it. It's too much. It _hurts_."

"Then _don't_. Let it go and get out of here!"

She shook her head jerkily, remaining stiff on the floor even as a piece of the ceiling fell and crashed to the floor right beside her. "I donnae ken what'll happen if I let go."

"Whatever it is, it's going to happen anyway when the ceiling comes down on your head!"

Gail shook her head again, but a second later her whole body tensed even further and she let out a scream of pain that was swiftly drowned out by a cacophonous rumble from all around them. The ring of crystals around them flared brightly in unison for just a second.

Then every one of them shattered outward in a shower of blue shards and gold mist.

Arthur flung up his arms to cover his face, but there was nothing he could do to prevent the shards from cutting into the rest of him. His chainmail protected his torso, but he felt the sting of several sharp fragments digging their way into the back of his neck, his hands and his legs.

For a moment, the golden mist lit the cave beautifully. Or, it would have been beautiful, anyway, had it not been for the corpses that littered the ground. The sorcerer's dead eyes glinted gold at him from across the room, as if he was casting another spell from beyond the grave.

The the mist dispersed and they were left in a collapsing, lightless cavern.

"Gail!" Arthur bellowed into the din. Something large and heavy slammed into the ground mere inches behind him and he knew he had only seconds to get out before the whole cavern came down on his head.

"Gail!" He shouted again, reaching out blindly.

A hand grabbed the shoulder of his tunic and yanked him in the general direction of the staircase. "Move yer arse, ye bampot!"

Arthur grabbed onto Gail's wrist so he wouldn't lose her in the chaos and, together, they stumbled for the exit. They tripped over rubble more than once and Arthur ran straight into a wall, but they somehow managed to find the doorway without being crushed.

"Can't you make some sort of light?" Arthur shouted as he tripped on the first step of the staircase.

"Nae, I tried already." Gail yelled back, tugging him to his feet. Arthur grit his teeth at the sudden renewal of the pain in his side, but any sound of pain he may have made was drowned out by the roaring of the collapsing cave behind them. "The magic has been trapped too long, it is nae much in the mood t' be told what to do at the moment."

Arthur picked up his pace despite his blindness after a chunk of stone struck his shoulder, keeping one hand wrapped around Gail's wrist and the other pressed against the curve of the wall. He counted the steps to avoid falling on his face when they reached the top.

It didn't take that far.

When they hit the twenty-second step it crumbled and gave out beneath them, all the previous steps collapsing behind them. Arthur pitched forward, his already broken ribs and breastbone slamming into the twenty-third step and his chin into the twenty-fifth. He would have screamed if his lungs had any air left in them.

He scrabbled for purchase on the steps with his free left arm and had just barely managed to brace himself against the twenty-fourth step when Gail slipped over the edge. Her entire weight yanked against his arm, nearly wrenching it out of its socket and pulling his chest even harder against the stone edge of the stairs. Despite the utter darkness he saw bright flashes of white. He tried to catch his breath, but found that it was impossible. His broken rib ground against the stone and his grip on Gail faltered.

He was suffocating.

The pandemonium around him seemed to grow muffled and distant. If he didn't do something quickly, he would pass out and they would both fall to their deaths.

With the last of his strength, he hauled Gail up as high as he could. Just as his left arm began to slip on the stone the weight in his grip and the pressure in his chest were alleviated, but he still couldn't catch his breath.

Feeling Gail scramble up onto the steps beside him, he let his grip on her wrist relax. He slipped a few more inches. A bright, flickering orange glow appeared just outside of his fading vision, confusing his oxygen-deprived brain.

Then three─no, four─hands grabbed his arms and hauled him up and over the ledge.

The pressure on his lungs gone, Arthur sucked in as much of the dusty, clouded air as he could. Half of him wanted to just stay there, lie down and rest a moment, but luckily whoever had come to their rescue with a torch had other ideas.

He allowed himself to be yanked to his feet, just focusing on breathing and not passing out as his arm was dragged over someone's shoulders. It only took a moment before his vision cleared and he could make out Gail running ahead carrying a torch.

He turned his head to see who was dragging him out of the staircase and glared at the dark, serious face that greeted him. "Elyan," He coughed. "I told you to stay outside."

"You were taking too long. Everyone else came out without you. I'd rather not go home and tell my sister I let her husband die, if it's all the same to you."

"Enough haver, lads!" Gail called from the tunnel ahead. "The place is coming down!"

Arthur couldn't argue with that, so they ran, broken bones and insubordinate knights aside.

When the trio emerged into the valley, covered in dust and blood, Arthur almost collapsed in exhaustion. Judging by the color of the sky dawn wasn't too far away, meaning he had been awake for two whole days now. He was all out of adrenaline.

"Sire!" Alymere called out to him, relief evident in his voice.

 _Just a few more hours, Arthur. Can't stop yet._ He thought as he stumbled towards the rest of his men and the horses, coughing up dust the entire way.

Alymere was sitting against a boulder beside Percival, looking as pale as he had inside the cave. Gwaine was propped against the same boulder on his other side, obstinately refusing to pass out. Kay stood several yards away with Lucan's body, staring blankly into the horizon.

Merlin lay stretched out in front of Percival, Alymere and Gwaine, still wrapped in Arthur's cloak with the new addition of two other blankets.

Arthur staggered over to them and fell to his knees on Merlin's left side. Now, with his hair cleared from his face and the light of the torch, he could clearly see Merlin's entire face.

"Son of a bitch." He cursed quietly. Merlin's eyelids were crusted over with blood. Old, flaking trails of it streaked into his hair. Somehow, there was no sign of infection, but it was little consolation.

"How is he?"

Percival shook his head, earning himself a glare from Gwaine. "He's fading. He started convulsing as soon as we got out, and he only just stopped. He hasn't woken again."

Arthur reached out and pressed his fingers gently against the inside of Merlin's wrist, feeling for a pulse. His wrist was so thin the vein wasn't hard to find, but his pulse was too fast and too weak, and despite the blankets his skin was still cold to the touch.

Gail dropped quietly to the ground beside him, but Arthur didn't look at her until she spoke. "I was wrong."

He looked up at her blankly. "What?"

"Earlier, I thought...I thought there was nothing I could do. The magic was too much for me, it distracted me, clouded my mind. I dinna see it."

"See what? You mean you can save him?" Gwaine interjected, sitting up straighter and wincing as the movement pulled at his burnt skin.

"That would depend." She met Arthur's gaze steadily. "How much are ye willing to risk for him?"

Arthur looked down at his emaciated, dying friend, remembering all the times Merlin had nearly gotten himself killed for Arthur. It was, after all, what had led him here in the first place.

"I would risk my life for him. I _have_ risked my life for him."

Gail nodded. "I thought as much.

"The bond the sorcerer spoke of. It was like...a bridge between their souls, with a door on each side." She gently lay her hand, scratched as Arthur's was from the crystal shards, on Merlin's forehead. "Merlin's door was 'kicked in,' so to speak. From what I can tell, the sorcerer wanted something from him and he resisted, so he forced his way into his mind. Merlin's mind is wide open; vulnerable to all sorts of invasion."

"Can you fix it?"

Gail shook her head. "Only he can rebuild his defences. And in this case, we need that hole.

"When the sorcerer died the 'bridge' broke. It stretched until it snapped and the two ends retreated to their origins. If ye can go through the hole and latch on to the broken end, I can tether his soul to yers. He will, essentially, feed off of your life force until his own is strong enough to support itself again."

"You're suggesting I perform magic."

"Well...Aye, in a sense."

Arthur took another look at Merlin and saw in his mind's eye as Merlin stepped off the cliff to save him.

"I'll do it."

"There are risks. I cannae let ye do this without telling ye first."

"Fine," Arthur snapped. "Be quick about it, he's running out of time."

"Meddling in another person's mind is always a tricky business. A dangerous one, even if ye know what ye're doin', which ye donnae. He may fight ye, or ye might get lost. Ye could even join with his mind completely and lose yerself. Or the strain he's endured may be too much for ye to handle all at once."

"So you're saying this could kill me."

"Aye. It could kill both of ye, but he's goin' that way anyhow."

"One other thing..."

"What?" Arthur snapped impatiently.

"I've never actually done anything of this sort afore. It should work, in theory, but there are a great many things that can go bad here. If I slip, or if ye struggle, yer brain could get scrambled."

"I am willing to risk it."

"Sire," Alymere interjected, giving Gail an apologetic glance. "This is too dangerous. Allow me to do it in your stead."

Arthur was already shaking his head. "You're injured You lost a lot of blood back there and you're too weak to handle it."

"You are injured, too! I see it in the way you move."

Arthur studied Alymere closely. Though his youngest knight, Alymere had displayed on numerous occasions an impressively blind loyalty second only to perhaps Merlin's. "It's a couple of cracked ribs, nothing more. I admire your bravery, Alymere, and your loyalty, and I am grateful. But your loyalty is to me, not to Merlin. I won't risk another man for my sake today."

He shot stern looks to Elyan and Percival, warning them not to offer their able-bodied selves. He could see that Percival was about to object, and knowing the knight's fondness for Merlin Arthur couldn't use the same strategy on him. "And Percival, I need you to haul us all out of here if need be. I need as many men able to fight as possible in case reinforcements come. I'm leaving you in charge."

Percival shut his mouth and nodded, though he didn't look happy about it.

"And keep an eye on Kay for me. I don't think he should be left alone for long." Arthur said before turning back to Gail.

"Do it."

"One last thing." She said, her hand hovering over his forehead. "Just in case ye die or sommat, make yer men promise not to run me through. I've got a son to get back to."

Arthur glanced at his men, who all nodded.

"Alright then. I'll let ye all ken anyway before we start; I can run _really_ fast."

She placed her hand on Arthur's forehead. "Ye need to relax." She ordered. "It'll be instinct to resist, but I donnae have the skill to fight with ye. The less ye resist, the less this will hurt. Just let it happen, and I will guide ye."

Arthur nodded and closed his eyes as she began to chant softly.

It started as a pulsing tickle he could not locate, but steadily grew as she gently poked and prodded at his defences, trying to slip past them and call upon the magic of his soul. It quickly grew to an uncomfortable, almost painful level of pressure and he stiffened reflexively, barely stopping himself from trying to shove her out.

The pain grew to the point where Arthur couldn't catch his breath. He heard himself gasping and one of his knights, Elyan, he thought, mutter something nervously.

" _Relax_."

He jumped when he heard Gail's voice in his mind. As he forced himself to relax and visualized walls dropping out of the way, he wondered if her being in his head meant she was almost there.

" _Aye, it does."_

Oh, great, she could hear his thoughts, too.

" _A bit, aye. Now, move aside, lemme just...grab this here..."_

Arthur felt an abrupt, painful tug and _saw_ , even though his eyes were closed, wispy tendrils of red and gold twined together so tightly they were indistinguishable.

" _Interesting..."_

" _What?"_

" _For someone who distrusts magic, ye're drenched in it."_

" _What do you mean? Like a curse?"_

" _Ach, Arthur, donnae be so paranoid. Ye're fine."_

The gold and red swirled all around him and began pushing to escape, and for just a moment, Arthur forgot that he wanted to resist it and it became beautiful, familiar, not terrifying and painful.

 _Camelot's colors_. Arthur thought.

" _Oh, really? That makes sense. Those are the colors of yer soul._

" _Now, ye need to reach out to Merlin. It shouldn't be too hard, his mind is wide open. Once ye're in though, he may fight ye. Donnae go too far, donnae wander. Ye'll get yerself lost in there. Just find the bridge and grab it, then come back. I'll tie ye together when ye get out."_

Arthur dropped the last barrier and let the gold and red reach out. He searched clumsily, as if he had just been given a new arm and wasn't really sure how to use it yet.

Gail was right; Merlin's mind was easy to find. Even separate, Arthur could feel his servant's pain. It called to him, drew the tendrils of his soul closer. Arthur touched Merlin's mind, but just barely. The tendrils slipped away as if his and Merlin's souls were opposite ends of a magnet.

" _Oh, here. Don't let go."_ Distantly, Arthur felt someone grab onto the back of his hand and guide it to a stick-thin wrist. Recognizing it as Merlin's, Arthur grabbed on immediately.

And, just like that, their minds connected and Arthur was pulled in. He felt Gail's presence slip away and he knew nothing but darkness and pain.

* * *

 _Arthur stumbled through the darkness. For a second he thought he was back in the collapsing cave, but it was too silent, and he was...floating?_

Wait, where's my body? _He thought suddenly, trying to feel for himself and getting nothing. He was formless._

Am I dead? If I'm dead, why does it hurt so much?

No, I was... _Merlin_. That's right, I'm in Merlin's head.

 _For a moment Arthur wondered if what he was doing was right. Using magic? Invading Merlin's mind? Doing_ exactly _what the sorcerer did to him?_

It's the only way to save him, _Arthur reminded himself. Besides, is it really using magic if it's only his own soul?_

No time to think about that.

 _He stumbled forward, searching for the "bridge" that would connect himself to Merlin and save him. He sensed something ahead, much like the gold and red he had seen in himself, only this was a tired shade of blue._

 _He reached out for it, filling the darkness with his golden red, but it shrank back from him like a wounded animal and vanished. An intense pain engulfed his entire being and, if he had had a throat, he would have screamed._

 _Then, suddenly, he was somewhere else. The huge man he had killed in the tavern was looming over him, a beefy hand wrapped around his throat, choking him. He laughed and threw him to the ground. "Though ye could escape, aye? Go ahead, just try. Fly away, little bird!"_

 _He rolled over onto his front and tried to scramble to his feet to escape, but the brute behind him laughed again and stomped down on his broken right shoulder. He screamed in agony and crashed to the floor again._

 _When he looked up again, he was chained to a stone table and the sorcerer was looking down at him curiously. "A manservant? I must admit, I dinna see that one coming. I suppose it makes sense though."_

 _The sorcerer clapped his hands together and smiled warmly. "Let's get started then, shall we?"_

 _Arthur found himself floating again, confused and unsure of where he was. Unsure of_ who _he was. Those had to have been Merlin's memories, Merlin's emotions, but they had felt like his own._

" _Ye can never go home." The sorcerer's voice echoed in his mind and, as Merlin must have, Arthur believed it. Despair and grief overwhelmed him, even drowning out the agony he was in. He saw Camelot's walls before him, only instead of welcoming and reassuring as they should have been, they were distant and lonely. He had made a terrible mistake he could never come back from. This was his life now: endless pain and darkness._

Still _, he thought stubbornly._ I won't give in. I _can't_. Camelot may be home no longer, but I can still protect it.

Arthur was flooded with a maelstrom of voices and emotions, so many at once that he couldn't distinguish or make sense of them anymore.

" _Ye can make this all stop. It's yer choice."_

 _Defiance._

" _We'll find it eventually. In the meantime, how about we let Bryce have his turn?"_

 _Terror._

" _Aw, ye ain't screamin' no more. C'mon, Little Bird. Sing for me."_

 _Disgust._

" _I think we broke 'im."_

" _Naw, he's just fakin'."_

 _Fatigue._

" _You fakin', Little Bird? Adare's gonna be mighty pissed with ye if 'e cannae get what 'e wants."_

" _Arthur?"_

 _Disbelief._

" _Where's that bottle? Give 'im somma that."_

 _Dread._

" _What...what are you doing here?"_

 _Confusion._

" _Aye, make 'im sing!"_

" _You can't be here!"_

 _Panic._

 _Wait. "Merlin?"_

" _Arthur! You need to get out, escape. They'll kill you."_

" _Merlin, you're safe. They're gone, I haven't been captured."_

 _Cackling laughter. The smell of stale mead. A stabbing pain._

" _W-what?"_

" _You're safe. I'm going to take you home."_

 _Despair, panic, terror._

" _Fine, Little Bird. If that's what ye're playin', I'll go along with it."_

" _I can't...You can't be here Arthur, you can't see this!"_

" _Where did ye hide it? I'm a patient man, but I do have my limits. I'll call in Silas if I have to."_

" _Merlin, I─"_

" _Get out!"_

 _Arthur suddenly found himself surrounded by swirls of desperate blue mist. The tendrils wrapped around his own, entwining and joining with his golden red. The newly-made bridge pushed against him violently, ripping Arthur from Merlin's mind._

* * *

Arthur's ears were ringing. He opened his eyes for a second, only to squeeze them tightly shut against the dawn light. He was squeezing Merlin's wrist so tightly his fingers hurt, but he barely noticed past the blinding agony he was in.

The last thing he heard before passing out were his own screams.

* * *

 **SORRY!**

 **Yeah, not really. Let me know what you think! Too confusing? Too many explanations? Not enough? Too long (ha)? Not enough Gwaine?**

 **Happy Thanksgiving!**


	12. Chapter XI

**Chapter XI**

Arthur woke to a powerful ache through his body and a steady throbbing in his skull. Wherever he was, it was quiet. Oddly peaceful, after the day he had had. Well, months, really. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this calm, even though every inch of his body felt bruised.

Despite his newfound relaxation, there was still a side of him that was stressed and anxious about something, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He felt strangely disoriented, as if he was underwater or upside-down or he'd grown an extra limb he didn't know how to use yet. He began to suspect a concussion, though he couldn't remember being hit on the head hard enough.

His eyelids felt too heavy to even consider lifting just yet, so he lay still and just listened. He could hear people breathing, a soft crackle of fire, the occasional creak of a wooden chair, the distant laugh of a small child.

He must have passed out again, because the next thing he knew the room was filled with snores and the quiet murmur of conversation. His mind was too muddled and the voices too quiet to hear most of the conversation, but Arthur could make out the words "Magic," "Home," "Merlin," and "Go t' sleep, ye stubborn git."

 _Gwaine, most likely..._ Arthur thought as he drifted off to sleep again.

The next time he woke, it was to the sound of water bubble over a fire, more snoring, and a soft, rhythmic scraping sound. He pried his eyes open slowly─well, one of them. The left one seemed to be swollen shut for reasons he could not remember─and blinked against the bright light in his eyes. It was midmorning, at least.

He turned his head to his right, towards the scraping sound, and winced as the pain in his head intensified. Beside him, on a cot identical to his own, Merlin lay on his back, blankets drawn up to his chin, his hair washed and a clean white bandage over his eyes. Percival was perched on the edge of a chair, leaning over Merlin and shaving his beard with gentle, efficient strokes.

Merlin's left arm was stretched out towards him, looking stick-thin next to Arthur's scraped and bruised, but healthy one. Arthur was surprised to see that he was still holding onto his wrist, albeit now with the help of of a dark green cotton sash wrapped around their wrists to hold them together.

Merlin was still clearly unconscious, but the hand against his wrist was warm now, at least, though Arthur thought that might be mostly from his own body heat.

Not wanting to either interrupt Percival's task or speak with his terribly sore throat, Arthur stayed quiet and looked around the rest of the room to get his bearings.

It looked like a house, humble but well-built from stone and wood. They were in a large rectangular room with a fireplace on the wall near Arthur's feet and a door in the wall near his head. In one corner there was a large area obscured by a grey curtain, most likely a private sleeping area. Nearly every inch of wallspace was covered in shelves which were in turn covered in pots and bottles, and the air smelled strongly of herbs and stew, reminding Arthur of Gaius's chambers.

Across the room, past Percival and Merlin, Gwaine lay snoring on another cot against the wall. Alymere sat in a chair beside him patching a cloak, and Kay and Elyan were nowhere to be seen.

Arthur sucked a deep breath into his aching chest and tried to sit up, only to be nearly blinded by pain and nausea. He fell back against his flat pillow with a quiet groan and squeezed his eyes shut again. The scraping sound of Percival's razor ceased abruptly.

"Arthur?" Percival asked quietly.

Arthur grunted in reply and opened his eyes again. "What happened?" He croaked, his voice raw. "Not you, Percival. Keep doing what you're doing. Alymere? How's everyone doing?"

Percival gave him a small smile before bending over Merlin's head again.

Alymere cleared his throat. "We're in Gail's house. So far there's been no sign of soldiers tracking us, so I think we got clear. Elyan's out watching though, just in case.

"My wound was deep, but superficial. I'm already nearly recovered. Gwaine's going to take a bit longer, and he'll have some impressive scarring, but barring infection he should be fine with a week or two's rest. Everyone else managed to get out with only minor cuts and bruises.

"As for you and Merlin...it's a little more complicated. I'm not the one to explain the details, but the bridge worked. You two joined and a second later you collapsed and started convulsing."

"And screaming." Gwaine added, sitting up on his cot with a wince. "Don't forget the screaming. Screamed like a little girl."

He looked around the room with a confused, groggy look on his face. "Oi. She drugged me again, didn't she?"

"Yes." Percival answered without looking up.

" _Dammit_."

" _Anyway_ ," Alymere said pointedly. "Apparently a physical connection strengthens the magic one, or something. Gail tried to explain it to me but I was mostly just trying not to pass out at that point, to be honest. I don't know how you did it, but you somehow managed to hold on through the whole thing."

"At least until you died. Way to make Elyan panic." Gwaine interrupted again. "You could practically see the conversation with Gwen forming in his head."

"Wait, what?" Arthur propped himself up on one elbow with great difficulty and a lot of wincing. "What do you mean _I died_?"

"Yeah, but apparently you're immortal, because you got better."

"Ye're also an idiot." Gail said as she stepped into the house, a heavy satchel slung over her shoulder and her son in tow. The small boy was carrying a satchel of his own. "Did ye get t' that part yet?"

Gwaine grinned drowsily at her. "I was getting around to that."

Gail ignored him and glared at Arthur. "Ye dinnae think it was a good idea to mention ye'd _broken three ribs_? _And_ yer sternum? One would think ye'd broken yer head as well!"

Arthur sighed and leaned back into the pillow, rubbing his throbbing head with his left hand. "I didn't think it was relevant."

Gail slapped her forehead in exasperation. "Yer rib was stabbin' ye through yer chest!"

She put her hands out, fingertips together and mimed snapping them apart in opposite directions. " _Kkt_! One end rippin' a hole through yer skin and the other end rippin' a hole in yer lung! Ye were suckin' in air through yer side and yer lung was flattening like a squashed bug, and _ye dinnae think it was relevant_?

"It dinnae help matters that the magics were all goin' haywire and nae listening t' me, either. I swear, I thought yer brother-in-law was goin' t' run me through for a moment there, knightly honor or nae. Ye got him well panicked with that stunt."

She paused just long enough to take a deep breath before continuing, this time rounding on Gwaine. "And _you_! I snuck enough sleeping draught int' yer breakfast t' keep ye out for at least six hours, yet here ye are. Got sommat against sleep?"

Gwaine started to open his mouth to defend himself, only to clench his jaw in pain when Gail grabbed the edge of the bandage on his shoulder and tugged it down to check the burns beneath. "It'll keep for now. Ye'll heal faster if ye _sleep_."

She turned away from him and crossed the room towards an old wooden table, shaking her head and muttering under her breath.

" _Damn stubborn idjits._ "

She hefted her satchel up onto the table and dragged a mortar and pestle towards herself. "Callum, ye got the yarrow?"

The boy nodded and handed his mother a large bundle of herbs from his bag, then climbed up onto a chair next to her.

"Honey?" Callum quickly pulled a jar off of one of the shelves and Gail smiled. "Good lad."

"How long was I out?" Arthur asked as Gail measured out herbs, put them in the heavy stone bowl and passed them to Callum to grind.

Arthur spotted what appeared to be a handprint shaped bruise around her wrist and realized a second later that it was probably his own from when he'd caught her on the stairs. Other than that and a few scrapes, she appeared to be completely unharmed, though even as he ground the herbs into a paste Callum watched his mother carefully. It was as if he was afraid she would keel over and die before his eyes.

"Mmm," Gail glanced out the window, then made her way to the pot of stew simmering over the fire. "Two and a half days, now."

"What?" Arthur forced himself to sit up and lean against the wall behind him, despite the stabbing pain in...well, everywhere.

He let out an involuntary groan. "Did you people toss me down a hill after I passed out or something?"

Gail gave him a look and started scooping a large bowl of stew from the pot. "Ye're feeling some of Merlin's pain with yer own. Taking some of the harm so he can heal."

"Oh. That's alright then."

Gail hummed in agreement before walking towards him with the bowl of stew. "Eat."

Arthur looked at the stew with a slight grimace, his stomach roiling at the mere thought of food.

Gail's green eyes narrowed. "It's nae poisoned. Ye've nae eaten in...what, four days now? Lookin' at yer friend I'd say it's been even longer for him, and with the bridge, ye're sharing. So eat. He's certainly nae gonna do it."

Arthur quit grumbling and took the stew, which was surprisingly good. He wasn't sure why he was expecting something bland. Probably because he had tasted Gaius's stews before and assumed physicians just didn't know how to cook.

Gail, for her part, noticed his surprise and snorted in derision, but said nothing. Satisfied that he was going to eat the stew without further complaint, she turned away from him and gently folded back Merlin's blankets and began carefully unwinding some of the bandages to check his wounds.

"When will he wake?" Arthur asked, slightly nervously, between bites. "Is he going to be alright?"

Gail shot him another "are you an idiot" glance, then returned her gaze to her patient, her tone and demeanor taking on a no-nonsense, professional air. "He might survive, if that's what ye mean. Far too early to tell just yet though. I cannae say when he might be wakin' if he does. I expect infection t' hit ye both soon. There must have been some sort of ward keeping it at bay back in the cave, but it's nothing I can replicate. I've done my best with herbs and magic, but given his injuries and how weak he is, it's nearly unavoidable.

"Aside from that, those manacles...From what I can tell, they were reaching into him, searching for something. I donnae ken. It donnae make much sense to me, but in any case, they were killing the tissue. I think I can save his legs, at least.

"Most of the lacerations on his back have healed over already, but there are a couple dozen that are still raw. I cannae do anything about the scarring, I think some kind of acid was used."

Arthur found himself unintentionally tightening his grip on Merlin's wrist and forced himself to relax. "Why is he laying on them? Shouldn't he be on his front?"

Gail grimaced. "He was on his front for months." She carefully peeled back the bandages on his emaciated torso, and the sight she revealed brought everything Arthur had managed to put into his rebelling stomach back up. Gail, though, was a physician and saw it coming. She grabbed a bucket from under the cot and dropped it in front of him without missing a beat.

On Merlin's chest, collarbone, shoulders, ribs and hips the flesh had been worn and scraped away, leaving raw, bloody cavities behind. Merlin was so thin Arthur could count each of his ribs, but he could actually _see_ a few of the lower ones. The skin had been completely rubbed off of them.

Upon closer inspection, Arthur realized that some of the scarred flesh directly under his collarbone was a healed burn, not an open sore like the rest. A round pattern of interlocking circles and lines.

The bastards had branded him with their symbol. Marked him as _theirs_ , like an animal.

"Pressure sores." Gail explained, not paying any mind to the burn. It was old and, therefore, not worth worrying about. "Worst ones I've ever seen. Also most likely to be the thing t' kill him, if infection does set in. Callum?"

The boy slid off of his chair and hurried over, the bowl of ground herbs and honey clutched tightly in his hands. Gail took the bowl and tousled her son's auburn curls. "Thank ye, Cal. Go on and play now. Find Keith."

She turned away from her son and began applying the paste to Merlin's wounds, but the boy didn't leave. He looked silently from his mother to Arthur, then wandered over to sit next to Gwaine and watch the rest of them. Gwaine didn't look surprised at this development, so Arthur supposed the two had become friends in the last couple of days. Gwaine gingerly leaning towards him and whispering something in his ear and the false smile he put on for the kid supported that theory.

Arthur's gaze returned to Merlin's face just as Percival put his razor away and stood, leaving Merlin clean-shaven as usual, though his hair was still longer than it had ever been. At least it was clean now. His skin was white as a sheet, highlighting the bruises and scrapes. There was a dark, straight scab directly under his bottom lip that Arthur hadn't been able to see before, but it was tiny in comparison to the rest so he hardly paid it any mind.

Percival said something about checking on Kay and left the house, closing the door softly behind him. Arthur suspected his departure was at least partly reluctance to see Merlin's wounds again.

"What about his eyes?" Arthur asked with dread, drawing attention to the blindfold-like bandage on Merlin's head. "Did they blind him?"

Gail shrugged, not looking up from her task. "Too early to tell. It appears that they sliced his eyelids with a small, sharp blade. It was a right neat job, to tell the truth. Still, they're too damaged right now to risk lifting, so I cleaned 'em and bandaged 'em and left 'em alone for now. I cannae tell if the blade reached his eyes, so there's hope yet, especially if he held still, though...given the state of his wrists, this one's a fighter."

Arthur clenched his free fist in fury and saw Gwaine likewise clenching his jaw from across the room, even though he had no doubt heard all this before. If Callum hadn't been in the room, Arthur suspected, Gwaine would be going on a vulgar diatribe by now.

Gail didn't seem to notice, and just continued to catalogue Merlin's wounds for him as she dressed and bandaged them. She gestured to his mangled right arm. "The shoulder has been completely shattered. I think some pieces of the bone have actually been removed, most likely to avoid shredding blood vessels or traveling to the heart, killing him. It's irreparable."

She pointed further down his arm. "Broken forearm, unset and incorrectly healed. It could be repaired if it was rebroken, but there is nae much of a point, given that he will nae be able to move his shoulder anyhow. Broken wrist, at least three different times, most likely self-inflicted, also nearly irreparable."

"Wait, what do you mean 'self-inflicted?'"

She looked up at him and looped her left fingers around her right wrist, miming shackles, and twisted her right arm as if trying to escape from herself. "From the nature of the break, it appears that he yanked his arm hard enough to break it. I suspect the break in his forearm could have been made the same way. Eat yer food."

Arthur looked down at his stew, knowing he had to eat it if only for Merlin's sake, but at the same time feeling like he'd just vomit everything again if he ate another bite. Especially now that he was trying not to imagine what could have terrified Merlin so much that he would break his own bones so many times to get away from.

"Each of his fingers on his right hand have also been broken and allowed to heal badly, most of them have been broken at least twice. The thumb has been broken at least four times. Probably irreparable, but again, unnecessary. His left arm is completely untouched, which is a wee bit odd, I must admit, but I will nae be complaining 'bout that."

She shook her head sadly and sighed. "It's a pity, for a warrior to lose the use of his sword arm. Especially one who can inspire such loyalty from his friends. Men like that are hard to find."

Arthur shook his head, still staring at Merlin in horror. "He's not a warrior, he's a servant. Bravest one I've ever met, but a servant nonetheless."

Gail snorted, tied off a bandage and looked up. "Servant my arse. Ye send yer servants t' fight sorcerers often?"

Arthur frowned and looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes and gestured to his chest again. Arthur sat up straighter to take a closer look and, sure enough, under everything else was a large, pale scar, much like the one on Arthur's own back from the first fight with the sorcerer─Adare, Arthur recalled from Merlin's memories─in the woods.

"It's the same sort that ye've got, and now, Gwaine, too. But this one's older. Years, I suppose, though it's hard to tell exactly."

Arthur looked up at Gwaine, a silent question in his eyes, but the knight looked as surprised as he felt. "Are you sure it wasn't just from some campfire accident?"

Gail nodded. "Aye, the pattern is too distinct. It was clearly a sphere, and those donnae come natural."

Arthur leaned back again, shaking his head slowly.

"That's nae all, either." Gail continued. "He has a few old scars that look like shallow blade wounds, a mace wound, and on his back, if I'm not mistaken, a serket sting. A few ribs have been broken in the past, too, but I cannae tell if that was from before or during his captivity."

"Serket?" Alymere interrupted.

Gail nodded again. "Aye. Nasty giant scorpion things. I'm not sure how he survived, to be honest, especially if he was alone. Ye sure ye dinnae ken 'bout any of this?"

Arthur shook his head. "No."

Gail pursed her lips and looked down at Merlin for a moment before drawing the blankets up to cover him again. "Well, it seems yer friend is quite the interesting fellow."

Sighing, she drew up another chair between Merlin and Arthur. "Now, I think ye're overdue for an explanation. What happened? Ye were in his mind for nearly two hours. I thought ye'd gotten lost and would never come back. Then ye started screamin' for ten minutes straight afore up and dyin' on us."

She nodded towards the knights at the other end of the room. "Like they said, ye held onto his hand the whole time, up until that point, and then..."

"Then?" Arthur prompted.

Gail shook her head. "I donnae ken how to explain it. Yer heart stopped, ye let go, and he grabbed on. I donnae ken how he did it, as far gone as he was, but he used the bridge t' balance yer souls and bring ye back. He saved the both of ye, and I donnae think he even ken he was doin' it. It was almost like it was _instinct_. Never seen anythin' like it."

 _He saved my life again_. Arthur thought, staring down at their linked arms. _Even when I'm trying to save_ his _he somehow manages to do it._

"Arthur?"

Arthur looked back up with a start, broken from his thoughts. "Hmm?"

"What happened?"

Arthur pursed his lips and thought for another moment before answering. "I'm not sure. I think I did get lost. I couldn't find the bridge and then suddenly," He clenched his jaw and glanced towards Gwaine, "I was in his memories. It was like they were my own. I forgot who I was for a moment.

"Then he spoke to me. Well, thought? He was panicked, I could feel it. Merlin faced a _dragon_ once and he didn't panic, but he was terrified of something. He seemed confused though, I'm not sure he knew what was going on. I think he thought I had been captured with him. Or maybe he just didn't want me to see those memories."

Arthur fell silent for another few seconds before clearing his throat and continuing. "He told me I had to get out, then he grabbed my end of the bridge and shoved me out. _I_ didn't make the connection, _he_ did."

"Typical," Gwaine said with a sad smile. "Always pulling your sorry ass out of the fire."

Gail gave Merlin a glance bordering on awe, but only for a moment. She stood and brushed her trousers off. "In any case, it worked. Remarkably well, actually, for two people inexperienced in magic. Though I suppose Merlin has gotten more than enough experience these past few months."

Arthur's gaze dropped back to Merlin's wrist, so pale and thin in comparison to his own, and he couldn't help but agree.

Gail nodded to the bowl of stew still cradled in Arthur's left hand. "Finish yer food. He's gonna be borrowing a lot of yer energy the next few days. Get some more sleep, too."

Arthur leaned his throbbing head back against the wall again. "I've been sleeping for nearly three days."

"Nae enough." She walked to the table again and slung her satchel over her shoulder again, then started for the door. Callum immediately abandoned Gwaine to follow his mother like a tiny guard dog.

"Agnes, poor gel, went into labor an hour ago. _Triplets_. If ye need me, send someone t' follow the screams." She said, eliciting a horrified look from Alymere as she stepped outside.

Arthur stared blankly at Merlin's pale, bruised face after she left. It wasn't fair, what had been done to him, and it certainly wasn't right. Adare may be dead, but he wasn't the last of them. Arthur wasn't naive enough to believe it was over yet, but he hoped they had at least slowed them down.

They had Merlin back, for one. Clearly Destiny's Mirror had needed him for _something_ , and whatever that was, they hadn't gotten it. Camelot was safe for the time being, right? Otherwise they would have made a move already.

Still, he needed to get back. She had been without her King for over a month now, and while they hadn't told the citizens what was going on, some of them at least were sure to have realized their sovereign was missing. The last thing he needed was for word that he wasn't there to reach Camelot's enemies. He shuddered to think what Morgana would do with the information, wherever she was.

He had to get home soon, or at least send word back so the Council wouldn't start assuming he was dead. Merlin certainly wasn't fit to travel that far, and Arthur certainly wasn't going to go without him, even if he could leave him without Merlin dying.

And what was he supposed to do about Gail? Loath as he was to admit it, he was beginning to almost trust the sorceress, to the point where he had to remind himself how dangerous she could become. He couldn't deny that she had saved Merlin's life, at least, and probably his own as well. If he was going to take Merlin home, he would likely need her help.

He would need to bring a known sorceress into Camelot, where the law would demand he execute her.

And what of the cult? Would they come after Merlin? They didn't seem the type to just quit, and it seemed that Merlin was somehow important to their goals.

Which brought Arthur back to the question that had been eating at him the most: What was it Merlin had that they needed so much? He felt like he was missing a huge piece of the puzzle that should be right under his nose. Did it have anything to do with the unexplained scars, or was he reading too much into it? Maybe he had merely been oblivious and Merlin hadn't come out of all those skirmishes as unscathed as he had seemed.

But still, that would only explain the smaller ones. There was no way Arthur had completely overlooked something like a _serket_ attack or a sorcerer's fireball. One way or another, Merlin had been keeping some pretty big secrets.

No way to know for sure until... _if_ Merlin ever woke up. There was no point in speculating. He would do nothing but drive himself up the walls, and he had more pressing matters to attend to.

When he finally looked up Gwaine had dozed off again and Alymere was busy patching a different cloak. The light filtering in through the gauzey curtains was far dimmer than it had been before, leading Arthur to believe he had been lost in thought for longer than intended.

"Alymere," Arthur broke the silence. "I need to speak with Kay and Elyan."

Alymere nodded and stood, setting the cloak down on his now vacated chair. "I will locate them."

"Thank you." Alymere walked out and Arthur sighed, looking down at his and Merlin's joined wrists again. He was certainly willing to be literally tied to Merlin to keep him alive, but it was going to be damned inconvenient. He already itched to start pacing, despite how ill and achy he was feeling.

Remembering the bowl of stew in his hand, Arthur carefully balanced it on his knee and tried to force as much of it into himself as he could, despite the fact that he was still queasy and the stew had long since cooled.

It wasn't long before the door opened and Kay stepped in quietly. He clearly hadn't shaved and probably hadn't slept in the days after Lucan's death. "You requested me, Sire?" He asked emotionlessly.

"How are you holding up?"

Kay stared at him blankly for a few seconds before shrugging.

"I want you to go back to Camelot. Take Lucan home."

Kay closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "He always said he wanted to be buried beside his father. I want to take him back to his mother and brother."

Arthur nodded. "When the rest of us return he will have a knight's funeral."

"Thank you, Sire."

The door opened again and Elyan stepped in, a grin on his face when he saw Arthur. "It's good to see you awake, Arthur."

"I need you to go back to Camelot with Kay, first light tomorrow. Let the council know about this cult, and report the deaths of Sirs Bors, Gaheris, and Lucan. Update Gaius and Guinevere about Merlin privately, you know how the Council feels about him. Focus on the threat to Camelot. "

Elyan nodded grimly. "How much should I tell them about Merlin?"

"You don't have to give them every detail, they'll just worry." Arthur told him wearily. "But don't lie to them either. I don't want to give them false hope. Make sure they know we are with a capable physician and will return as soon as we are able."

"Will that be all, Sire?" Kay asked formally in the same emotionless tone he had used since entering the house.

"Yes, Kay." Arthur said softly, then watched sadly as the young man walked out.

"He's hardly said a word these past few days." Elyan said with a sigh, still watching the door.

"Keep an eye on him for me." Arthur requested. "He shouldn't be alone. Make sure he knows he isn't."

Elyan nodded seriously. "You didn't need to ask."

The he, too, exited the house without another word, leaving Arthur alone with his two unconscious friends as the sun went down.


	13. Chapter XII

**Sorry for the wait for this one, it was really hard to write. I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I can't figure out why so here it is. :/ If you can figure it out, let me know. If that wasn't enough, I also caught a cold (thanks, siblings), got a lot of work now and upcoming (thanks, neighbors. Not sarcasm, this time, I love working), and flooding. The house is on a hill, so it's fine, but there's a river in my backyard where there should be no river and the power has gone out at least five times. Dunno, lost count.**

 **Anyway, enough with the excuses, here it is! Enjoy. Or cry. Or stew in disappointment.**

* * *

 **Chapter XII**

Kay and Elyan rode out at dawn, pulling Lucan's body behind them in a cart they had bought off one of the villagers. Kay didn't say a word all morning, and Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong with the knight. He hoped it was only shock and grief, but there was a look in his eye that said otherwise. It was the look of a man keeping secrets, something he never would have expected from one so open as Sir Kay.

Then again, if someone had asked him a week ago if Merlin had any secrets, he would have denied it without hesitation, but the scars on his body told another story entirely.

But Arthur had little time to contemplate any of this. By noon that same day the infection Gail had warned of had set in and both Arthur and Merlin burned with fever. Arthur was too delirious to remember most of what happened after that, just bits and pieces. Sweat, vomit, Gail standing over them chanting spells, Gwaine standing over them and pretending he wasn't worried, chills, Gwaine standing over them and swearing, a series of confusing nightmares, then...nothing but blackness and pain. He hated to think what it would have been like had he not have been taking half of the sickness into himself. There was no doubt in his mind that they would have lost Merlin if it hadn't been for the spell.

The fever broke three days later, much to the relief of everyone present, but still Merlin didn't wake. At times he looked so still and pale he appeared to be dead, but Arthur never believed he was, not even when he snapped awake from another nightmare of his friend falling from the cliff. It was the bond, he supposed. He could feel Merlin beside him, almost like an extension of himself, alive and _there_. Not well, but _alive_. The knowledge soothed Arthur's nightmares instantly, even if Merlin looked like a starved corpse or if the room was too dark to see him at all.

He never thought he would be comforted by magic, but he was. At times he wanted to blame enchantment for making him feel that way, but even his biased mind couldn't deny the good magic was doing before him. Even if it did turn out later that Gail had been bewitching him this whole time, he thought, it would have been worth it if it got Merlin back to Camelot safely.

Still, that didn't stop him from watching her like a hawk every time her green eyes turned gold. She knew he was watching her, but she never seemed offended, just amused or indifferent, like she knew something he didn't. Every time she performed a healing spell she looked exhausted afterwards, like it was difficult to call on the magic. They were miles south of the cave, but the land was still sick here.

The days passed slowly, and Arthur found himself more and more confused at the many sides of Gail. He supposed it was to be expected, to not know what to expect from a sorceress. One minute she was a fierce warrior, the next a gentle mother or a stern physician. Through it all, Arthur never once caught her in a lie, which was the most surprising of all. Either she was very, _very_ good at deception or magic wasn't as inherently secretive as he once believed.

Percival was as friendly and welcoming towards her as ever, though he kept a respectful distance. He spent most of the time patrolling with Alymere, which made it difficult to gauge his reaction to the situation, but Arthur could sense no mistrust in him when he was around.

Gwaine was, well, Gwaine. Gail was a beautiful, strong woman who appeared to be helping them on every front, and he had clearly made friends with her son. She had done nothing to earn his mistrust in his eyes so he would continue to treat her the same until─ _unless─_ she did. He may like her, but Merlin came first.

Alymere showed none of the wariness Arthur felt towards the sorceress, which made Arthur want to trust her more than anything she had actually done. Alymere was an excellent judge of character and Arthur had never known him to be wrong. He was precise and logical about such things, and he appeared to trust her implicitly. He seemed fascinated by the intricacies of magic, which worried Arthur, but he never saw him actually try to learn to wield it so he let him be.

Regardless of his desire to trust the sorceress _now_ , everything he had learned _before_ told him that magic was not to be trusted. Morgana, Morgause, Dragoon, Valiant, Destiny's Mirror, Sigan, his troll of a stepmother, and countless others. He had trusted blindly before only to be betrayed later, and he wasn't going to do it again.

So, the next several days were spent closely watching her every movement. He never once saw her without her son, even during the more gruesome elements of Merlin's treatment. He followed her around, grinding up ointments, burning bandages, placing pillows behind Merlin to prop him up on the days Gail had him on his side, and mixing up tonics to slowly try to trickle down Merlin's throat once or twice a day. It was nearly impossible to get him to swallow anything more than a little honey in water, but it was better than nothing. Even a tiny bit of sustenance would help to strengthen him, but they couldn't do any more until he woke.

In the meantime, Gail was feeding Arthur as much as he could handle in order to compensate. His wounds were slowly healing, but he still felt as sore and achy as ever from the pain he shared with Merlin. There were several things that didn't make sense to him and he had to assume they were coming from Merlin, even though he was deeply unconscious. He jumped at sudden noises or touches, grew anxious at the sight of a potion even if he had watched it being prepared and knew it was harmless, and could barely stand the dark. Some nights he had nightmares that would have him struggling to breathe when he woke and he knew they weren't his even though he could never remember them after. He neither complained about nor regretted his decision to bind his soul to Merlin's, however painful it was, but he was still looking forward to when Merlin was strong enough for more selfish reasons than just concern over his well being, even if the thought of Merlin having to face it all alone was disheartening, to say the least.

It was just as awkward, at times, being physically tied to Merlin's arm, especially when he needed to eat, relieve himself, or change clothes, but he quickly became adept at using only his left arm and working around Merlin. Despite the inconveniences Arthur was secretly glad of the physical connection. He could feel Merlin through the bridge, but there was still something immensely reassuring about actually holding onto him. As long as he didn't let go, Merlin wouldn't disappear again.

And when Merlin finally did wake Arthur was even more glad of the physical connection, because it allowed him to know the instant it happened.

Eleven days after his rescue and five days after the fever broke Arthur was sitting on his cot, his back leaning against the wall behind him, yet another wooden bowl of half-eaten stew resting forgotten on his lap. Despite it being only early afternoon, he was dozing again when Merlin's grip abruptly tightened around his wrist.

Arthur jerked awake, sending the bowl of stew clattering to the floor between the two cots. Gwaine spun around to face them, his gaze going first to the door and his hand to his sword before realizing no one was attacking them. His dark eyes flicked over to Arthur next, but Arthur wasn't paying him any mind.

He stared at Merlin for several seconds, not quite believing that he was finally─ _finally─_ awake, despite the vague sense of foreign panic from the bridge. Then Merlin's weak grip tightened again and Arthur saw a definite twitch in his jaw.

He looked up and scanned the room, finding only Gwaine present. "Get Gail." He ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Despite there being no room, Gwaine butted his way in regardless. "Is he─"

" _Now_ , Gwaine." Arthur repeated quietly, standing from his cot and crossing the gap between himself and Merlin in a single step.

Gwaine hesitated another second before quickly exiting the house. Arthur could see the tension growing in Merlin's body language even as he felt it growing in his heart.

"Merlin?" Arthur said, his voice barely above a whisper. A shudder went through Merlin's entire body and Arthur could feel that he was in pain. Arthur squeezed Merlin's wrist involuntarily.

Merlin jerked away from him, the shared panic increasing only to abruptly be muffled, as if Merlin was trying to block him out. Arthur held on tighter, knowing Merlin still wasn't ready to release the bridge quite yet. "Merlin, calm down. It's me, Arthur. You're safe. _We're_ safe."

Merlin didn't seem to hear. He shuddered violently and tried to pull his left arm away from Arthur, only to find it tied down. Arthur realized with a jolt of horror that Merlin's left arm was restrained just as it had been in the cave. Restraint was not the intent, but the result nonetheless.

Merlin thought he was still there.

Thinking quickly, Arthur loosened his grip on Merlin's wrist and gently lifted his arm and placed it on Merlin's chest to prove to him that he wasn't immobilized completely. "You're free, Merlin. We got you out. Just listen. _Listen_. Hear that? Outside. Rain, chickens, a little girl's voice. You're in a village, see? You're safe. There's a bandage over your eyes right now, so just listen."

Merlin stopped struggling, but his emaciated frame was still taut and shaking with tension. His breaths were coming fast and shallow, but he didn't make a sound. He clenched his fingers tighter around Arthur's wrist.

Arthur knelt down beside him, ignoring the cold stew soaking into the left knee of his trousers, and gently placed his left hand on Merlin's undamaged arm. " _You're safe_. I swear it." He said softly. "They're all gone. And, it's _about bloody time_ , Merlin. You've been sleeping for eleven days. We were starting to think you'd never get around to waking up."

Merlin drew in a deep, shuddering breath that was nearly a sob. He relaxed marginally, but it didn't take a psychic link to see that he was still afraid and in pain. The teasing, as light as it was, seemed to be the thing to finally convince Merlin that it wasn't a trick. That was good, Arthur supposed, because he wasn't going to be any good at girl stuff and he foresaw several more panic attacks in the near future.

The door flew open and Merlin jerked away from the sound violently, hyperventilating so fast he nearly choked on his own breath. Arthur tightened his grip around Merlin's wrist again and shot a glare towards the trio who had just entered. "It's just Gwaine, Merlin. The idiot still doesn't know how to open a door. You're safe. He's brought a physician."

Gwaine hung back guiltily as Gail rushed past him to Merlin and gently pressed two fingers to his neck to check his pulse, which Arthur already knew was racing. Merlin twitched away from her touch and she retracted it quickly. Callum followed her in but stood a few paces back with Gwaine.

"Merlin?" She said evenly, her tone no-nonsense and professional. "I'm Gail. Can ye speak?"

Merlin froze completely at the introduction of a new, unfamiliar voice.

"Breathe, Merlin." Gail ordered. "I'll nae hurt ye. I'm a healer. Ye donnae have to speak, I jist want to ken if ye can. Nod or shake yer head."

Merlin managed to choke out several breaths, but remained still and silent aside from that.

"Mm, I thought as much." Gail said, apparently taking that as an affirmative and completely bypassing Arthur's horror at the idea.

"Why can't he speak?" Gwaine blurted, anger tainting his voice. "Is it some...curse?"

"Must _everything_ be magic with ye lot?" Gail asked with exasperation. "He's damaged his throat with overuse, is all. Long as he rests it, his voice should come back."

Right. Six months of screaming.

 _I ain't 'eard any screams in ages._

"Alright, I'm gonna jist check under yer bandages real quick, aye?" Gail continued before carefully lifting the edge of the bandage over his eyes to peek at the damage. Merlin somehow managed to stiffen further, but made no move to escape.

She gently replaced the bandage and took a step away. "It's healing nicely, but best we leave it another day or two anyhow. I'll make ye a potion for yer throat, should help ye with yer voice."

Merlin, relatively calm a mere second before, erupted into a panic. He jerked away from Gail, toward Arthur, only to pull back from him as well. He began to hyperventilate again and abruptly clamped his jaw shut, biting down hard on his lower lip to keep it closed. With a now-familiar jolt of horror Arthur realized what the straight scab under Merlin's bottom lip had been from. Previously half-healed, it broke open again and blood trickled down his chin.

Arthur felt his panic, despite Merlin's efforts to block it from him. It was far stronger than before, to the point where Arthur himself nearly wanted to bolt.

"Merlin, mate, it's alright." Gwaine said quickly, but it had no effect.

" _Take yer medicine, Little Bird!_ " A low, menacing voice crooned in Arthur's ear, just behind his left shoulder.

Arthur whipped his head around so fast he banged his shoulder against Merlin's cot. There was nothing behind him but his own cot, though the corners of the room seemed more shadowed than before, threatening and ominous.

The same voice laughed directly in his ear he reflexively tried to cover his ears, but having only one free hand, that was impossible.

" _Ye better swallow if ye donnae want t' choke!_ "

"Arthur?" Gwaine asked from Merlin's shaking side. "What's going on?"

Arthur flinched violently as the shadows began to creep out of the corners towards him. He groped at his side for his sword before remembering that it leant against the wall several feet away.

" _Stop fakin', Little Bird."_

" _You can't see this!_ "

Arthur felt a sharp tug and realized a second later that Merlin was trying to pull away from Arthur's mind to protect him from his own. He clamped on tighter, both mentally and physically, even as Merlin fought against him.

"I need t' sedate him." Gail said, unable to calm Merlin down. "He's going to break the bridge."

"No!" Gwaine snapped. "You're not giving him any of your potions, can't you see how afraid he is?"

" _Hauld 'is nose! Make 'im swallow!_ "

Merlin tugged harder on his end of the bridge and a sharp pain exploded behind Arthur's eyes. He groaned and doubled over, pressing his left hand to his head and squeezing Merlin's wrist harder with his left. He was afraid he might break it, it was so thin, but he couldn't bring himself to loosen his grip. Merlin wasn't ready to be on his own yet.

"Arthur!"

" _This'll fix yer voice, make ye sing. Cannae break somethin' that's a'ready broke, after all!_ "

"Arthur, snap out of it! What are you saying?"

Too late, Arthur realized that the words were tumbling out of his own mouth, his voice becoming a hoarse echo of the one laughing in his ear. He tried to shut his mouth, stop the words from coming, but it was like his body was not his own. His movements were sluggish and all he succeeded in doing was making the words slurred and whispered.

"Gwaine, he _needs_ that bridge! If he breaks it now he _will_ die."

Arthur could feel hot, drunken breath in his ear and blood trickling down his back. There was a nearly unbearable, stabbing ache in his right shoulder and a pit of dread in his stomach. Merlin pulled harder on the bridge, fervently trying to throw up walls between his mind and Arthur's even in his panic. As he fought harder mentally his physical jerking weakened, but didn't stop.

"Sing, Little Bird!" Arthur curled tighter around himself, trying desperately to shut his stupid mouth. It was bad enough to know Merlin had heard all these things before, but to hear them from _his_ lips? The thought was horrifying.

"Arthur, stop it!" Gwaine snapped, then continued to argue with Gail. His voice was beginning to waver slightly. "I can't let you make him drink that."

The shadows lunged for him, wrapping around him and threatening to suffocate. "Try that again and I'll knock yer feckin' teeth in, ye─" Arthur finally managed to clamp his left hand over his mouth, cutting himself off mid-snarl, but the original voice continued in his ear and, he knew, Merlin's.

"─ _little bitch!_ _Let's see how ye bite without 'em!_ "

"Enough, Gwaine, let me through!"

Arthur bit down on his own hand to keep from echoing the shadow's words and all that escaped was a desperate moan.

" _Poor Little Bird, wings all broke. Whatcha think, start on 'is─_ "

"Swefe nu!"

The shadows instantly retreated and Merlin's mind calmed, leaving Arthur gasping for breath and shaking on the floor. Knowing Merlin was unharmed by the spell, he remained where he was. He gradually forced himself to relax his death grip on Merlin's slack wrist and leaned forward to rest his forehead against the edge of Merlin's cot, just focusing on breathing for now.

"What the hell was that?" Gwaine demanded, shoving Gail away from the cot. "What did you do to him?"

"Relax, ye ruddy bampot. 'Twas jist a sleeping spell."

"You─"

"Gwaine," Arthur snapped without raising his head off the thin mattress. "Merlin's...fine, he's just sleeping."

"What the hell happened?"

Arthur shook his head tiredly. "I don't know."

"He was leaking."

Arthur lifted his head to scowl at Gail. "Leaking?"

"His mind. They forced their way into it, broke past his defences. The 'walls' are gone, so now there is wee between what goes on inside his head and the outside world. When provoked into a state of hysteria, the two blend together. He likely could nae tell what was real and what was memory or imagination, and it was bleeding into you as well."

She shook her head and looked away, towards where her son stood against a wall, watching them silently, then abruptly cleared her throat and changed the subject. "When he next wakes we need to make sure he eats something. I'm nae sure we can keep him from breaking the bridge again, and if he does, he'll starve to death right then.

"I doubt he's eaten in weeks, possibly even months. His stomach will nae tolerate much at first. Honey water will have to do. I'd like to put some herbs in, but I doubt that would go over well."

"How do you know so much about all this?" Arthur interrupted quietly, unable to completely keep the accusatory tone from his voice. He wasn't sure he wanted to. It was something that had been bothering him for days now, but he had been trying to deny his suspicions.

Gail turned to look at him, pasting a falsely inquisitive expression over the initial...sadness? Guilt? It was masked too quickly to identify. "I donnae ken─"

"Yes you do." Arthur continued in the same tone. "You say you're just a healer, that you don't know battle magic. Yet you know about... _this._ Right now, I can't think of a magic more malicious."

"'Tis _obvious_ , if ye ken what t' look for." Gail shot back defensively. "I jist ken what happened, nae how t' do it. I'd never─"

"You also know more about the Mirror than anyone else we've met." Arthur continued, unable to stop dumping all his concerns once he had started. "We searched for _months_ and barely found a mention of them. Then there's _you_ , who not only knew what they call themselves, but what their goal is, what their methods are and how to find them."

"This is my _home_ , Arthur." Gail growled. "When it starts dyin', I keep an eye out. It helps to have a Seer next-door, too."

"That's not it though, is it? You _hate_ them. You killed that guard _after_ he had surrendered. This is _deeply_ personal to you."

Gail clenched her jaw and looked away again, at her son.

"You said before that you didn't want to help us at first because you didn't want to send 'any more' to their deaths. What did you mean by that? Have you... _done_ this? Were you once one of them? Had a falling out, maybe? Got sick of killing for them? Why are you really helping us? I'm no friend of magic. Is this all just some sort of atonement?"

She looked back to him, fury burning in her eyes. "My brother."

"Wha─"

"And my sisters. And my father. They took them away and left me behind. Probably thought I was dead." She pulled down the left shoulder of her tunic to reveal a long scar. "Back then they took a lot of folk. I never learned why.

"My husband went after them to get them back for me. When I was well enough I followed. Found him wandering the plains alone, feet bare and bloody, half starved and spouting nonsense. They threw him out like garbage, a message for the rest of us. ' _Stay away or this is you_.' He slowly wasted away until he died, right in this room. They dinnae jist _kill_ him, they _destroyed_ him. I never found the others.

" _That's_ why I dinnae want to help ye. Because of people like them, and me, and Lucan and Kay. I help _him,_ " She pointed at Merlin. "Because of my husband, and I help _ye_ , because of the prophecy.

"But even without any of that, I'd still help ye all, because I am a _physician_. It's what I _do_. I would _never_ help _them_. I'd rather─" She snapped her mouth shut with another glance towards her son.

She turned away, grabbed a jar of honeyed water off a shelf, and slammed it down on a stool beside Merlin's cot. "He'll be wakin' afore too long, probably afore sundown. Make sure he gets some of that in not t' drown him."

Without another word and before Arthur could say anything, she stormed out of the house, Callum trailing along behind her as always. Just before passing through the doorway, the boy turned his head and gave Arthur a death glare. "Jist so ye ken, I'm real good with knives." He said conversationally, then smiled and closed the door behind him.

"That could have gone better." Gwaine said quietly after a long moment of silence. Arthur glanced over at the knight to see that his gaze was focused on Merlin, and Arthur wondered whether he was referring to the conversation with Gail or Merlin's violent reaction. Either way, he agreed wholeheartedly.


	14. Chapter XIII

**So sorry about the long wait! Holidays and an insane amount of work have been kicking my butt lately. I got my first 43 hour work week ever in, immediately followed by another 12 hour overnight work day, then I nearly killed myself with my own stupidity (again...) by forgetting to pick up my insulin. That turned out to actually be a good thing, because I had to stay up for 30 hours straight jabbing myself with needles every hour, so I finally had time to write. I got so tired that I started questioning whether or not I was spelling Arthur's name right and whether or not "confusement" was a word, so if there's something hinky in this chapter I missed in rereading, blame sleep deprivation. This chapter feels a wee bit slow to me, but don't worry, things will start happening a bit faster soon.**

 **Also, FF wasn't letting me reply to reviews for some reason. A couple of reviews weren't even showing up in with the others, though I got emails about them and the review count changed. So, that was weird, but don't think I'm ignoring you! I read and appreciate every review I get, even if I don't reply.**

 **I hope y'all are having a great new year so far!**

* * *

 **Chapter XIII**

Arthur cleaned up the mess of stew on the floor in silence while Gwaine went to get more firewood. Even as he wiped the floor down his eyes darted back and forth to Merlin, despite the fact that he could already tell he still slept. It still felt odd to him, doing chores and taking care of his _servant_ , but he didn't mind and did it without hesitation. After the last several months, something as simple as cleaning soup off a floor with a rag was actually relaxing. Maybe it was the bridge─Merlin was inadvertently rubbing off of him.

Arthur felt a slight urge to smile at the thought, but it didn't quite reach his muscles.

"I don't know why you're always complaining about this, Merlin," Arthur muttered softly. He knew Merlin couldn't hear him, but he had to break the oppressive silence Gail had left behind or he'd go mad. "It's not that hard, and I'm doing it with one hand!"

He fell silent again when he realized that Merlin would never clean anything any other way again. His gaze drifted back to Merlin's right arm, tied snugly against his side to prevent excess movement.

Sighing deeply, he tossed the soiled rag into a bucket and sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the wall by Merlin's head and leaving his right arm on the mattress, still bound to Merlin's. He stared straight ahead for some time, watching the shadows on the wall sink with the sun.

"I'm sorry." His voice didn't quite crack. "I messed up. You shouldn't have even been on that cliff. I didn't need to take you. I don't need my _servant_ to come with me to hunt bandits. I don't know what they wanted with you, but I'm sure that's my fault too. That sorcerer...Adare, he attacked me first. He wanted me, not you. You just─"

Arthur sighed deeply and scrubbed his left hand over his face. "I should have left you at home, with Gaius, safe. Then you wouldn't be here, dy─" He paused and cleared his throat. "Injured, and I wouldn't be consorting with sorceresses or being threatened by little boys."

 _He slowly wasted away until he died, right in this room._

Arthur sighed again, finding himself no longer able to speak past the lump in his throat.

 _You're going to be fine. Your legs are getting better, your back is scabbed over, the infection has passed, and you'll be opening your eyes soon. You're not going to die._

Merlin shifted slightly beside him and tensed up again, but more sluggishly than before. Arthur wasn't getting as much through the bridge as he had been, but he thought Merlin was perhaps a bit more relaxed now. He briefly wondered how Merlin could so easily block Arthur out like that, but then reasoned that he must have been trying to do that exact thing against Adare for months. He clearly hadn't succeeded against the sorcerer, but Arthur had no idea─or inclination to try and learn─how to get past Merlin's new defenses.

Arthur raised his head and watched as Merlin slowly regained consciousness, letting him wake up in his own time. He remained silent, not wanting to startle him if he could help it.

Merlin's breaths increased slightly and became more shallow, but at least he wasn't hyperventilating again. His hand twitched and a second later he turned his head marginally towards Arthur. He could feel a slight amount of confusion leaking across the bridge, and the ever-present pain, but for once he could discern very little anxiety.

Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but the only sound that escaped his damaged throat was a hoarse breath.

"Don't try to talk just yet." Arthur said softly, smiling slightly when Merlin didn't flinch at the sound of his voice. Progress? "Your throat is still raw."

Merlin tugged weakly on their joined arms and Arthur grasped his wrist gently. "Leave it alone, for now. I'm sorry, I didn't want to do it...use magic, but I had to. It was the only way and you were dying. Your body is starving and can't survive without it yet."

Merlin stiffened again and went very still. Arthur briefly got the feeling that Merlin was shocked and trying to figure out how to process this information, then he was almost completely cut off as Merlin blocked him out. That was fine. As long as he wasn't panicking or trying to break the bridge, Arthur would take what he could get.

Arthur waited in silence for Merlin to wrap his head around the idea of Arthur doing _magic_. It took several moments, but eventually he relaxed again. Mostly relaxed, anyway. He still seemed a little tense and his breaths were quick and shallow.

"When you're strong enough, we can break it." Arthur continued quietly, watching Merlin closely for his reaction.

Merlin was still for a long moment, then he gave a tiny nod.

"You'll need to start eating first. The physician says you won't be able to handle anything but honey and water for now─"

Merlin twitched again and tried to sit up, but was too weak to do so.

"Calm down, relax." Arthur said, gently laying his left hand on Merlin's chest to keep him still, careful not to touch any of the bandaged sores.

Merlin opened his mouth again and let out another breath that sounded a lot like "Gaius." It was the first word Arthur had heard from his lips in six months, and even though it wasn't quite _spoken_ , Arthur was glad to hear it.

"Gaius isn't here. He's in Camelot, waiting for you." Arthur explained softly, wondering how much Merlin remembered from his last bout of consciousness. "The physician here...her name is Gail. She helped us find you."

Arthur couldn't see Merlin's eyes, but there was no mistaking the look of sad disappointment that crossed his face. He couldn't blame him. If he hadn't seen a friendly face in six months, he'd be missing his family too.

"Do you want to try drinking some of that honey-water?" Arthur asked, hoping this wouldn't provoke another attack like before.

Merlin shook his head vehemently, then abruptly froze in pain as the movement jostled the bone fragments in his shoulder. His jaw clamped tightly shut and Arthur winced, remembering how he had bitten through his lip hours before.

"It's alright," Arthur assured him hastily. "It can wait a few minutes."

It took another few moments, but eventually the wave of pain subsided and Merlin let out a tight hiss of pained breath and relaxed marginally, only to freeze again, though not in pain this time. It was as though he had just remembered something important. Without further warning he tried to lift his left hand off the cot. Arthur raised his own hand, knowing Merlin was too weak to be able to do it on his own, especially after all the energy he had spent the last time he woke─energy he didn't have in the first place.

Merlin tugged their hands weakly toward his face and the bandages that covered his eyes.

"Gail said the bandages could come off in a day or two." Arthur said, immediately understanding what Merlin wanted.

Merlin ignored him and tried to swipe the bandages off. It was an impossible task with his hand wrapped in the sash that bound them together, but he stubbornly tried anyway.

Arthur hesitated. It _had_ been several hours since Gail had said it should wait a day─about half a day had passed. How much healing could a person do in just a few more hours? Merlin was likely to panic again if forced to remain blind, he reasoned.

"Alright, I'll take them off. Hold still." With his free hand, Arthur reached up and gently pulled the bandage up and over Merlin's forehead. It was loose, and so it slid off easily, revealing the fine, straight pink lines on his eyelids. Arthur stomped down his anger yet again. There was no logic, no _reason_ he could see to torturing a servant like this.

Merlin's eyelids fluttered weakly, opening just a crack before he squeezed them shut again with a wince. Arthur felt a hint of hope mingling with another stab of anger. Merlin had been in the dark so long even the dim evening light hurt his eyes. But, at least, he was reacting to the light. That must mean he wasn't blinded, right?

Merlin squinted his eyes open a crack only to close them again five more times before they finally adjusted enough to open them properly. He blinked blearily, his gaze roving around for a moment before finally coming to rest on Arthur's face.

That hint of hope was gone, leaving a bad taste behind in Arthur's mouth. Merlin's right eye stared at him with an unreadable expression, and the left was completely glazed over and clouded. Two straight scars sliced through the now-white iris and grey pupil.

The silence stretched on for a long, uncomfortable minute, Merlin just staring and Arthur trying to read him. Finally, just when Arthur was about to say... _something_ , Merlin turned his head away to stare at the dusty wooden beams above him instead. He drew in a deep, painful breath and allowed tears to collect in the corners of his eyes.

"It's...Merlin..." Arthur stammered, finding himself completely unable to console his friend. Normally he would joke and tease, punch him in the arm and call him a "dollop head," and Merlin would grumble because that was "his word" and all would be well again. But this...

Even though he had known it was impossible, a part of him─a small, childish part─had still been hoping that Merlin would wake up, open his eyes and say something stupid like "What took you so long?" That they'd grin and maybe, just _maybe_ even share a hug before they all went home and continued on like nothing had happened. Put the whole thing behind them like all their other adventures and keep being what they'd always been. Servant and King. Tacit friends.

Brothers.

It somehow took the sight of Merlin's tears for it to finally hit Arthur that maybe it wasn't possible to save him after all.

Merlin had been hurt. Hurt so badly, Arthur realized, that he could not even comprehend it, much less hope to be able to somehow _help_ him. The damned Mirror had violated him, body and mind. They had trespassed and defiled his very _soul_.

Arthur just couldn't see how a person could recover from that.

It was a daunting fight, perhaps an impossible one, but when had Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon, King of Camelot, The Once and Forever or whatever shit the so-called prophecies rambled about cowered from "impossible?" Hell, he'd already battled sorcerers, enchanted soldiers, and thugs for this fight. He had made allies of magicians and even dabbled in the dark arts himself for this fight. It would not end in meek surrender.

Still, he couldn't just call Merlin a girl after all he'd been through. He needed a new strategy.

And time to think of one.

But first things first, he needed to get some sustenance into Merlin, whether he liked it or not, but hopefully without any panic attacks.

"Look, the way I see it─" _Damn you, Arthur. That was a_ brilliant _start._ "I mean...You're not blind. Your legs are recovering. You've got a perfect arm right here. You just need to start eating again to get your strength back, alright?"

Merlin, despite his adamant refusal just minutes before, merely sighed and blinked slowly, letting the tears run across his temples into the pillow. Arthur hesitated a moment, then decided to take Merlin's unexpected pliancy as an agreement of sorts.

One-handed, he grabbed the jar of honey-water and pulled the lid off, then set it back onto the stool. "I'm going to help you sit up, alright?"

Again, Merlin gave no answer, so Arthur stood and gingerly slid his left hand beneath Merlin's upper back, just under his neck, and carefully pulled him into a more-or-less upright position. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in another harsh breath, but he remained stoic as Arthur propped him up with pillows and the blanket from his own cot.

Satisfied that Merlin was as comfortable as he could be, Arthur sat back and grabbed the jar again. When he looked up Merlin's eyes were open and he was watching him again. The half-dead stare made him shift uncomfortably, but he raised the jar so Merlin could see inside it, showing him that it was indeed nothing more than honey and water. He wasn't sure what the Mirror had forced him to drink, but he wanted to make sure Merlin didn't think it was happening again. He wouldn't force him if he could help it.

"Are you ready?" He asked, only slightly hesitant.

Again, Merlin only continued to stare with a sort of blank sadness. Arthur stared back for a moment, a slight frown on his face as he tried to read what was going on in Merlin's head. Though he had been smiling then, Arthur was all of a sudden reminded of a conversation they had had years ago.

" _You've got a suspicious look about you. Shifty. Like you've got something to hide..."_

" _I am an open book."_

" _I don't believe that for a second."_

"Just a little, for now." Arthur warned as he held the jar to Merlin's lips and slowly tipped it back. This was no time to be dwelling on the past.

Merlin swallowed twice, then turned his head away to stare blankly at the embers in the fireplace while Arthur stood by with the bucket in case he couldn't keep what little he had consumed down. For several long minutes, the only sound in the house was the soft crackle of burning wood and the occasional creak of Arthur's cot when he shifted. Merlin hardly moved a muscle the entire time; just stared at the fire, blinked, and occasionally frowned at something.

Again, just as Arthur had decided to break the silence, Merlin twitched and glanced over at the corner of the room, his eyes widening. His lips parted and he mouthed a single, short word that Arthur couldn't make out.

"What?" He asked stupidly. Merlin glanced at him only briefly before turning his gaze back to the corner.

A pit of dread settled itself into Arthur's stomach and made itself at home. Was Merlin seeing things? Had he broken? He'd seen people break after merely a day of torture.

 _Six months_.

Luckily, before Arthur could think too much about the horrifying possibility─ _probability_ ─of insanity, the door swung open and Gwaine stepped in. Having learned his lesson earlier, he opened it quietly...but he clearly hadn't learned it well enough because when he laid eyes on Merlin, propped up on pillows, eyes open, his face lit up and he dropped the entire armload of wood he had been carrying onto the floor.

"Merlin!" He cried before he had time to think about it.

Merlin flinched violently away from the noise, toward Arthur, and whipped his head around to stare at Gwaine. Arthur couldn't see the look on Merlin's face, but from the horrified guilt that crossed onto Gwaine's, he deduced that it was nothing good. A second later Arthur realized that Merlin was shaking.

"Sorry," Gwaine muttered softly, averting his eyes guiltily and bending to gather up the wood again. Arthur shot him a glare, but it was tired and his heart wasn't in it.

Merlin watched as Gwaine crossed the room to the fireplace and set the logs down in the crate beside it─gently, this time─then grabbed two back out and tossed them into the fire. Gwaine picked up an iron fire poker and prodded at the embers to get the flames going again. Within minutes the fire was roaring again and Merlin's eyelids had begun to flutter.

"Oh, no you don't." Arthur said, lifting the jar up again. "You can't go to sleep again until you drink more."

Gwaine quit poking at the fire to look up at them, but said nothing. Merlin shook his head and blinked several times.

"Come on, just a bit. I won't let you starve."

Merlin stared blearily at him, and again Arthur got the sense that there was something going on in that abused mind that Arthur couldn't understand. Still, Merlin managed to take a few more sips before he turned his head away to stare at the floor. He blinked several more times, obviously trying to fight off sleep.

"Rest, mate, you're safe here." Gwaine said, his tone gentler than Arthur had ever heard it.

Merlin's eyes darted around the room a few times before his gaze finally came to rest on the sash binding his and Arthur's arms together. He shook his head and frowned in confusement at the fabric. He mouthed a few words, but again Arthur couldn't make them out.

"Sleep, Merlin." Arthur repeated, a hint of his commanding "King Voice" creeping into his tone. He didn't really want Merlin to sleep again─not after weeks of watching him to just that─but it was obvious that he was exhausted.

Merlin shook his head again, even as his eyes drifted shut and his breathing evened out.

Gwaine watched him sleep for a moment, then sighed and dropped heavily onto an empty cot. "Well, that went better than last time, at least." He said quietly. "Progress?"

Arthur nodded, choosing not to mention the tears or the feeling of wrongness he had gotten from Merlin's strange, calm demeanor. He had seemed almost...resigned. It wasn't what he had been expecting. But it _had_ been better than panic. Maybe things were looking up after all.

"Are Percival and Alymere still on patrol?" He asked.

Gwaine nodded. "There's been no sign of enemy movement, but the land hasn't been improving. We definitely didn't stop them."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair─it was getting too long, he should cut it─and sighed. "I know. The sooner we can get back to Camelot, the better. There's nothing we can do from here."

Gwaine frowned and stared at Merlin for another moment. "I was thinking..."

"Spit it out, Gwaine."

The knight shifted uncomfortably, something that Arthur had rarely seen him do. "The mountain pass. It's going to be snowed in soon, if it isn't already. Merlin's not ready for travel and won't be for some time yet. What happens if we're trapped on this side of the mountains until spring?"

It was something Arthur had thought about before, but kept pushing to the back of his mind. He couldn't stay away from Camelot for that long. His people would notice, his _enemies_ would notice...He was sure the Mirror would be able to send sorcerers across, snow or no snow. If they attacked Camelot while he was trapped in the wrong country...

He couldn't let that happen.

But he also couldn't leave Merlin behind. If the bridge broke now Merlin would die, and he couldn't let that happen either.

Which only left hauling Merlin's tortured, starving self across miles and miles of rough, cold terrain, jostling his shattered shoulder the entire way.

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "I don't know."

Some days he hated being King.


	15. Chapter XIV

**It has come to my attention that there is something screwy with FF's word counter...This chapter had 4,748 words in it so, naturally, like the obsessive individual I occasionally am, I found an unnecessary word to delete to make it 4,747 and saved, only to find that it suddenly had 4,911. Now, math was never my best subject, but I'm fairly sure that -1 doesn't equal +164. Right?  
**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy the words, however the hell many there are! *wanders off muttering nonsense under breath***

* * *

 **Chapter XIV**

The next several times Merlin woke, it was from the grip of nightmares. He would thrash weakly, wincing in pain from the movement but continuing it nonetheless. Arthur would quietly comfort him, or sometimes Gwaine or, once, Percival. Some times he would calm in seconds, other times it would take an hour or more, but each time he would settle back into a sort of resigned catatonia. They would be able to coax him to drink more of the honey-water, and later, weak broth, but apart from that he barely moved and never tried to speak.

It was worrying, but Arthur found himself feeling selfishly grateful that it was so easy to get some sustenance into Merlin. He had been worried about having to fight with him over it, or having Merlin try to break the bridge before he was ready.

Still, after three days of Merlin doing nothing but eating and silently observing them, Arthur was almost starting to wish for tears again. _Anything_ would be better than that empty stare.

So when, on the afternoon of the fourth day, Merlin spoke, Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin.

He was sitting alone in the house, his chainmail pinned between his knees and trying to clean the links one-handed. Unlike floors, this _was_ actually a difficult job and he now understood all of Merlin's previous whinging. Normally he wouldn't have even thought of it, but he needed something to do other than watch Merlin watch the walls.

Gwaine and Percival were out on patrol again and Alymere was out making himself useful somewhere, probably weeding grannies' gardens or repairing someone's roof again. Gail was also out, as she had been more and more often lately. Arthur wasn't sure if it was because the people of the village were getting sick more, or Merlin was _less_ sick, or if it was his fault for making her angry. Perhaps Merlin in his current state merely reminded her too much of her late husband.

So the great King of Camelot was left to amuse himself by cleaning tarnish and dried blood off of his own armor.

"Solid proof."

Arthur jumped in his seat, the heavy chainmail slipping from his grasp and puddling with a clatter to the floor. He looked up at Merlin, who sat propped up against a pile of pillows, stared at Arthur with wistful amusement.

"Proof of what?" Arthur asked after a moment of stunned silence.

Merlin's gaze darted around the wall behind Arthur for a few seconds before dropping down to the forgotten chainmail. "That I'm dreaming." His voice was still barely more than a hoarse, breathless whisper, but it was clearly audible now.

Arthur let out a short bark of startled laughter, the sound foreign to his ears. He wondered when the last time he laughed had been. Leave it to Merlin to be making jokes at a time like this. "I _have_ cleaned my own armor before, Merlin."

Merlin just raised his eyebrows.

"So, you're talking now, are you? I never thought I'd say this, Merlin, but it's damn good to hear your voice."

Merlin shrugged his good shoulder slightly. "It doesn't hurt as much...anymore."

"That was _it_?" Arthur blurted out before he could stop himself, earning himself another raised eyebrow. "Dammit, Merlin, you had us all thinking you were...I don't know, stuck in that head of yours. We thought you weren't coming back."

Merlin's gaze slid to the window, then to the fireplace, then up to the ceiling before coming back down to rest just above Arthur's left ear. "Maybe I'm not."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur demanded, another stab of dread eating at his heart.

Merlin shrugged again. "I don't always know. Can't...remember."

"Can't remember what?"

Merlin frowned and looked away again, this time just at a part of the wall. "Where...where I've been. Where I'm going...Where I was."

"Do you...remember where you were? Before now."

Merlin looked back to him, meeting his gaze for several long minutes before he answered, simply and honestly, without a trace of emotion. "Hell."

Arthur swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult not to look away. "Yes." He said quietly.

Merlin nodded once, slowly, then finally looked away to stare at the ceiling again.

Arthur didn't want to ask. He almost didn't want to know. But Merlin's honest, calm answer to the last question spurred him on, and he _needed_ to know. It was his duty to know, as King. He had to protect _all_ his people, not just Merlin.

"Do you know _why_ you were there?"

Merlin nodded again without looking down, seeming undistressed, so Arthur continued.

"Why?"

"I can't say."

"Why not?"

Merlin sighed slowly, carefully, and looked down at their joined arms again. "I'm...I'm tired, Arthur. I can't keep doing... _this_."

"Doing what?" Arthur asked, bewildered.

"Secrets." Merlin finally looked up again, and this time his eyes were full of pain and regret. "I'm sorry. It's not real now but I can't do it. I can't lie again...I'm sorry, I can't...can't tell you. Not even now. Don't ask me to. Please."

Arthur nodded reassuringly, though he had no idea what Merlin was talking about. He wondered if this had anything to do with the many scars Merlin had never mentioned, but he wouldn't ask about those either. He had the feeling that right now Merlin would tell him anything he wanted to know, whether he wanted to or not. He wouldn't take advantage of that.

 _I am an open book._

"I won't. I promise. Just...Tell me one thing. I need to know, is Camelot safe?"

Merlin's eyes twitched like they wanted to smile, but didn't quite make it. "Of course."

The way he said it suddenly made Arthur feel silly─and a bit guilty─for feeling he had to ask. Merlin was nothing if not loyal. If it was information they wanted from him, it was information they would certainly never get, even if they had been inside his mind. From what he'd seen, Merlin had become adept at keeping people out. Maybe he _had_ been able to fight off even trained sorcerers.

Again, Arthur found himself feeling guilty. Merlin should not have been his servant. He deserved a court position, at the very least. He didn't have the skills to be a knight, but he would make an excellent adviser.

Or he would have. Before...Arthur wasn't sure Merlin would want anything to do with him anymore.

"How are you feeling?" Arthur asked, suddenly desperate to change the subject.

Merlin sighed and fixed his gaze back on the wall. "Same as always. Nothing changes. Stuck forever."

"We'll be going home soon. As soon as you're able." Arthur assured him, confused again.

"I can't go back. Not anymore. You'll..." Merlin trailed off, agitated. Tears pooled in his eyes and Arthur immediately knew he was wrong earlier; he definitely hadn't been missing them. "I don't know how to go home."

"I don't know either. Not yet. I'll figure it out." Arthur replied, thinking yet again of the mountain pass.

Merlin shook his head. "No!" He croaked. "I can't lie anymore. I can't go home."

"We'll figure it out later, alright?"

Merlin didn't answer right away, just stared straight ahead at the fire for several more minutes. "I should have..."

The look of pure grief on Merlin's face was more than Arthur could bear. He didn't understand it, so he couldn't hope to change it, so he did the only thing he could think of and changed the subject again.

He reached down and picked the chainmail off the floor and draped it over his knees again, then picked up the rag he had been polishing it with and started rubbing at a particularly stubborn patch of rust.

"How the hell do you ever get these things _clean_?" He asked in false exasperation.

Merlin raised his eyebrows yet again. "Not with _that_." He whispered with a pointed glance at the tattered rag. "You need sand. I thought you said you'd done this before?"

"Well," Arthur said, pretending to be pretending not to be embarrassed, while actually just glad that Merlin was no longer talking about secrets and lies. "Not _this_ part. I cleaned a helmet once. And my sword."

"Hopeless..." Merlin sighed, glancing around the room again.

Arthur smiled─a rare thing, nowadays─and dropped the rag in favour of the bowl of weak stew that had been left cooling on a stool beside him. "Shut up, Merlin, and eat your stew."

Merlin gave him a funny look, yet another one that Arthur couldn't decipher. "I miss this."

"What, stew? I'm not sure what you mean. It's good but it's not _that_ good." Arthur said, unwilling to let the conversation stray back into uncomfortable, confusing territories again just yet. "Really though, you need to eat it. I wouldn't want to anger Gail any more than I already have─the woman is a terror with a broadsword."

"Ach, my ears." The aforementioned terror said as she stepped through the doorway. She glanced at the pair, clearly glad to see them both awake and more-or-less aware for once. "They're burnin'."

She crossed the room tiredly and dropped her satchel onto the table. "He's right, laddie. Ye need t' eat more. As much as ye can, ye're far too thin."

Merlin was ignoring the bowl and staring at Gail like she was some sort of puzzle.

"Quit yer gawkin' and eat yer stew already." Gail ordered after a moment of awkward scrutiny.

Merlin appeared unabashed, and continued his staring. "I don't..." He paused to clear his hoarse throat, a look of pure confusion passing over his pained features. Arthur had seen that look on Merlin's face several times in the past few days when he looked at Gail and her son, but it had always passed quickly and Arthur hadn't thought much of it.

"I don't understand you."

"What do ye mean?" Gail asked, scowling at him. "Is it the accent? Because ye ken, I 'ave trouble understanding ye lot sometimes, too. I should really do more travelin'..."

Merlin just kept staring. Gail gave Arthur a slightly unnerved look, but only slightly. "I can't remember you. I keep...trying, but..."

"Ye donnae ken me. We jist met."

Merlin shook his head slightly. "You should be in my head...somewhere. I can't find you. You're not there."

Gail frowned at him for a moment, dumbfounded, then she pointed at Arthur. "Nae, _he's_ the one that's been in there, nae I."

Merlin nodded. "I know. Arthur and Gwaine and Percival and Gaius and Freya and _them_ , all in here. But not you. You're hidden."

Arthur looked at Merlin worriedly. "Merlin, what are you saying?"

Merlin turned his head back to look at Arthur, his eyes pleading. "I don't know where she is. She's new."

"Yes..." Arthur said slowly, struggling to understand. "You've only just met her."

"No...I haven't met her. I can't remember." Merlin abruptly stopped and frowned at Arthur. "You've changed."

Arthur looked back up at Gail for help, feeling completely out of his depth.

"You shouldn't have changed; it doesn't make sense. You're thinner and your hair looks like a girl's."

"It's not _that_ long!" Arthur protested. "But at least you're not calling me fat anymore..."

"You shouldn't have changed."

"I'll cut it if it really bothers you that much..."

"How did you change? I didn't let you."

"Merlin, I don't need your permission to forget my haircut." Arthur argued, all the while wondering why he was arguing and what he was really arguing about. He knew this was about something more than his lack of fashion sense. "I _am_ still King, you know."

Merlin suddenly got a distant look in his eye. "Right...a _royal_ prat."

Gail snorted. "Still gonna tell me he's yer servant?"

Merlin's head snapped back around to face her again. "You."

"Me?"

"I figured it out. You're a trick. A ploy. Con _trivance_..."

"And here I thought I was a physician..."

Arthur slowly set the bowl of stew back down, feeling more and more helpless every second.

"No. You're _new._ I didn't put you there, so _he_ must have." Merlin's voice, previously barely a hoarse whisper, abruptly became stronger, though still quiet. If Arthur had been on the receiving end of that, even in Merlin's convalesce state, he thought he would have had to fight not to look intimidated. Gail, for her part, did not cower. "It won't work. I'll find a way to get rid of you. Like Silas."

"Go for it, hon." Gail said passively. "I think ye should start with yer mind. The Mirror, they broke yer walls, right? Ye ken what that feels like. Ye ken what it was like when they were there, and ye ken what it feels like now, aye?"

Merlin nodded hesitantly, wary.

"Good. Ye need to figure how to put yerself back the way ye were. We," She gestured at Arthur and herself, "Cannae help ye with that. That bit's all ye."

Merlin shook his head. "I can't."

"Aye, ye _can_. Ye made a bridge yerself, I know ye can do this."

" _No_." Merlin whispered adamantly. Arthur hadn't thought a person could sound so forceful with nothing but a whisper, but Merlin somehow managed to do it. "I _won't_."

Gail gaped at him like a fish. "What?"

"They're busy."

"Uh...right then. Long as ye stay away from evil sorcerers and such, there's nae rush I suppose. It can wait a wee bit. At least start breathin' properly. Keep goin' that shallow and fluid's gonna start gathering in yer lungs."

The door swung open again and Callum stomped in, a scrawny dead chicken clutched in each hand. "Mam, the chickens are droppin' again." He announced without preamble. "We're nae gonna have any left soon."

Gail took the chickens and checked them over with a loud sigh. "Might as well cook 'em up. There's nothin' wrong with 'em other than the fact that they're dead."

Callum took the chickens back and walked over to where a large pot was boiling water over the fire. "Keith says their souls are gone. Says the Mirror took 'em."

"Ye should stop listening to Kieth's haver. Chickens donnae have souls; at least nothin' worth stealin' anyhow."

Callum tossed the birds into the pot and turned to face his mother again. "But what if they jist got sucked in like all the other magic? Maybe that's why all the other animals ran away. We've nae seen a wild bird in months."

"If they could take chickens souls without touchin' 'em, why cannae they take ours?"

Callum opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut again. "I donnae ken...Maybe because chickens' souls are wee? Easy t' take?"

"Ye're bein' silly, Cal. Go fetch some rosemary for those chickens."

Callum shuffled his feet and headed towards the door, grumbling under his breath. "Rosemary's dyin', too."

Arthur watched the boy leave, then looked up at Gail. "What _is_ killing the chickens?"

Gail sighed. "Probably what he jist said. I dinnae want to tell him that, though. Poor lad's terrified of the Mirror comin' t' steal his soul. He thinks that's what they did to his father, no matter how much I tell him otherwise. I donnae want him thinkin' they can get to him from so far away."

"They can't." Merlin interrupted.

Gail looked at him funny. "I ken, but _he_ do─"

"Chickens don't know how to keep things." Merlin continued. "They can't take a person's soul that easily."

"Is..." Arthur started, then swallowed. "Is that what they tried to do to you?"

Merlin frowned and stared at his mangled, broken fingers. "They haven't thought of that yet. They don't know what I know and I don't know what I should."

He looked up, meeting Gail's gaze. "I still don't understand you. I can't make you leave."

"This is _my_ house, laddie."

"Your house, my head. Your house in my head. Why is it there?"

An expression of epiphany crossed over Gail's face, but before she could speak the door opened yet again and Gwaine and Percival walked in. Percival smiled at Merlin, but Gwaine just glanced briefly at him before looking away guiltily.

"We spotted a soldier about three miles north." Gwaine reported grimly.

"One of _theirs_?" Gail asked, tearing her gaze away from Merlin.

Gwaine nodded. "And he saw us."

"What happened?" Arthur asked, sitting up straighter.

"He just...watched us. Smiling." Percival said. "When we started toward him he vanished in a gust of wind."

"We rode around for a bit to make sure we weren't followed, then headed back here." Gwaine added.

Gail shook her head. "They ken about this village already. They took Callum nae four miles from here. Sommat's nae right here. If they wanted to find ye, they could. So why aren't they here?"

"Maybe they don't have enough men." Gwaine suggested. "They're regrouping."

Gail scoffed. "Donnae have enough men to take on four knights and a handful of villagers? They have an army and stolen magic on their side. They could raze this place to the ground in minutes."

"What are you suggesting?" Arthur asked. "That they _let_ us escape?"

Gail frowned searchingly at Merlin again. "I donnae ken. It donnae seem right. We're missing a piece of the puzzle and it's right under our noses. Why would they go through so much trouble to keep him only to let him go?"

"That doesn't matter right now." Arthur said, shaking his head. "We need to leave."

Gail looked pointedly at Merlin. "Ye cannae leave."

"Yes, you can." Merlin interrupted quietly, earning a surprised look from both Gwaine and Percival. They were the first words the knights had heard him say in six months. "You'll go when I do."

"Yes. We just need to find a way to get you ready to come with us." Arthur agreed.

Merlin slowly shook his head again, looking tired. "You can't come with me. I don't want you there. They'll kill you. Or...or I will."

Gwaine took a step forward. "What?"

"Where do you think you're going?" Arthur cut in.

"Back there. I always go back there."

"No, Merlin." Gwaine said firmly. "Never. You're never going back there. We're taking you back to Camelot."

"I can't go back to Camelot. Arthur's there, he'll see me."

"Arthur's right here." Percival said, looking completely and utterly confused.

Gail sighed again and leaned against the wall behind her before quietly interrupting the bewildering conversation. "He thinks he's dreaming. He donnae ken he's been rescued. He thinks we're all in his head."

Arthur and the knights stared at Gail and Merlin for a long, silent beat.

"Merlin?" Arthur said softly, not sure what else to say.

Merlin just stared back at him with the blank sadness that had become so familiar the last few days.

"This is real, Merlin. You're not dreaming."

"It can't be real."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Merlin looked quickly to the corner of the room. Arthur followed his gaze but saw nothing but cobwebs and an old chair. "I can see. I can only see when I sleep. And I see things that don't make sense."

"What you're saying doesn't make sense..." Gwaine teased gently, but his eyes were worried.

"Freya's here."

"Who?"

"And Aithusa. Gwen. My father. _Your_ father was here, too, but he can't touch me. They come when I think of them and go when I don't. But _she_ doesn't." Merlin started glaring at Gail again like he was still trying to figure her out. "I don't know who she is."

"You don't know her because she's not in your head, she's _real_." Arthur argued, suddenly understanding Merlin's previous ramblings.

"I know she's real. She's one of them. They put her in here to trick me."

Arthur shook his head hopelessly. "What about me, then? Can you make me disappear?"

"You never go."

"That's because I'm _tied_ to you. I can't go."

"I can't make you go because I don't want you to."

Arthur wasn't sure how to respond to that, but luckily he didn't have to; Gail did for him.

"Ye can make the others come and go because they're not here." She explained. "The Mirror broke down the barriers between yer mind and the world outside. The two are blending and ye cannae tell them apart."

Merlin shook his head again, clearly growing agitated. "No...but...I can't..."

"Merlin, we're real." Arthur repeated. "Calm─."

"No! _You're_ not real. They're real, but you're not."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I know what you're going to do before you do it. Because it's in my head. I'm dreaming you."

Arthur gripped Merlin's wrist tightly. "Merlin, I'm─"

"─right here." Merlin finished for him, proving his point.

"Alright, so you─"

"─know me very well. And don't start pinching your nose again, you'll put a dent in it."

Arthur dropped his hand back into his lap. "Fine, so you're in my head. As unpleasant a notion as that is, it _is_ explainable. Our minds are connected; I had to bind us together to keep you alive."

An involuntary shudder went through Merlin's entire body, causing him to flinch in pain. His lips pressed into a thin line and he forced his breathing to become shallower to reduce movement in his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. It was the only way."

Merlin nodded jerkily, but his breathing was quickening and Arthur could tell he was fighting another panic attack. He was silent for another second before he abruptly shook his head and squeezed Arthur's wrist like his life depended on it.

"I don't know what's real." He gasped.

"We can figure that out." Gwaine said earnestly. There was no doubt in his voice, but Arthur could see it in his eyes.

Merlin shook his head again, his eyes squeezing shut tightly. "I don't know how."

As he grew more distraught Merlin's defenses slipped and Arthur heard a sinister voice begin to whisper in his ear. He flinched away from it involuntarily and Merlin's head immediately snapped up in response. He stared at Arthur, eyes wide with horror.

"You can hear them?" He whispered.

Percival, no doubt entirely bewildered, said something but Arthur wasn't listening. His attention was fixed solely on Merlin and the shadows that were beginning to creep towards them again.

"Yes." Arthur murmured in reply.

" _Ye cannae hold out forever."_

"I'm in your head..."

" _Nae goin' t' talk, eh? 'S alright, I can find sommat else ye can use that mouth for."_

"And I'm in yours."

" _Ye cannae fight."_

Merlin shook his head, his breaths coming faster and more uneven. "Did you...Did you see it?"

"See what?"

"You can't know! It would destroy you."

" _I'll break ye eventually. Just hang tight."_

Now Gail was saying something, and Arthur thought maybe she had moved, but he paid her no mind.

"What are you talking about?"

Arthur felt an abrupt violent yank against the bridge in his mind, followed by a stabbing pain behind his eyes. He grunted in pain and held Merlin's wrist tighter. "Merlin, please, leave it. You're still weak."

" _Stronger than you."_

Arthur heard Merlin's voice and was certain his lips hadn't moved, but he had no time to think about that when a second later Merlin proved his point yet again.

Merlin tugged again and, almost embarrassingly easily, broke Arthur's grip on the bridge. Arthur felt the bridge stretch, only to snap back violently. He cried out in pain and squeezed his eyes shut, clutching his head in his hand.

Someone yelled his name but he couldn't answer past the screaming pain in his skull. His knees hit the floor before he knew he was falling and a moment later his head would have gone the same direction if someone hadn't caught him with strong hands on his shoulders.

He had somehow forgotten how to breathe. Violent shivers wracked his body, leaving him feeling frozen and hollow─like someone had ripped part of his soul away.

He could no longer feel Merlin's presence beside him and in a moment of panic forgot why. In the midst of the agonising throbbing in his head he thought for a moment that he had lost him, that Merlin had died.

Then he felt Merlin's frail fingers lock into an iron-tight grip around his wrist and he knew his fears were unfounded. He could no longer feel Merlin's presence because the bridge had broken, nothing more.

But his grip was too tight; so tight Arthur could feel Merlin's fingernails drawing blood from his wrist.

"Turn him on his side...aye, that's it."

Arthur gasped for breath and forced his eyes open, fighting through the pain.

" _Shite_ , he's seizing up."

Arthur blinked several times to clear the spots from his vision and saw Percival crouched before him, holding up up. Not sure he would be capable of speech, Arthur nodded his thanks and clapped the knight on the shoulder with his free hand before looking past him to Merlin.

Gwaine had rolled him onto his left side and was gently holding him that way as he convulsed on the cot, choking on his own vomit. Gail stood over him, her hand on his forehead, chanting words Arthur didn't understand.

"Merlin." Arthur gasped out, reflexively lunging halfway to his feet when he saw his servant's distress. His vision immediately went white and his head felt like it was spinning around on his neck.

Percival grabbed hold of his shoulders again and shoved him back, forcing him to sit down on his cot. "Sit down, Arthur."

The king had no choice but to comply or faint like a girl in front of his men, so he complied. By the time the dizziness had passed enough for him to lift his head again Merlin had stilled, his grip around Arthur's wrist had relaxed and Gail was silently letting her hand drop from his head.

"He'll live." She answered before Arthur could ask. "It seems he's had jist enough food and rest the last few days t' give him a good enough head start. Still, the next few days will be rough. Hell, the next few months, even years, if what we saw of his mind just now was any indication."

She shook her head sadly and tore her gaze away from her patient to Arthur, who looked back haggardly. "But it could be worse. Focus on that for now, I think, and jist let him sleep. Worry about the future tomorrow."

Gail shook her head again and smiled wryly. "I must say though; ye lads have a flare for the dramatic. I never had such difficultly stubborn patients as ye pair. Ye cannae do anything halfway, can ye?"

"What would be the point in that?" Gwaine asked, gently pulling Merlin's soiled pillows away for washing.

Arthur's head was still aching, though it was subsiding enough for him to ignore it. He leaned forward and pulled the loose knot on the sash binding him to Merlin. It unraveled easily, allowing Arthur to unwind the soft fabric and free the pair from each other. The bridge was broken, so there was no need to keep the physical connection.

He let the sash drop to the floor and carefully settled Merlin's limp arm onto the cot next to him.

Gail put her hand against Merlin's forehead one last time, then stepped away to prepare another ointment for Merlin's healing wounds. Percival dropped heavily into a chair and rubbed his face, looking exhausted. Gwaine looked just as tired, but he stayed by Merlin's side regardless.

For several minutes the party merely sat and thought in somber silence. The only sounds in the house were the soft chopping of herbs and steady bubbling of the pot over the fire.

Callum kicked open the door and stomped back in, his arms full of various half-dead herbs for the chickens. He froze in the doorway to take in everyone's tired expressions, then scowled.

"What did I miss?"


	16. Chapter XV

**Two chapters in as many days? Been a while since that happened.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter XV**

Arthur sat at Gail's table─the herbs had been cleared off of it─and pored over maps with Alymere.

Alymere poked at a spot on the map. "There's another pass here. It's rarely traveled and the ground is rough, but it should be passable. There's never snow there."

Arthur shook his head. "That will add another three weeks to our journey, at least."

"It may be our only option." Alymere said with a glance towards Merlin, who appeared to be sleeping. He had been doing a lot of that since the bridge had been broken, two days ago now, but he seemed to be slowly recovering. Gail said he was past the worst of it and, barring any further complications, would make a full recovery.

Well, obviously not a _full_ recovery. There was nothing to be done about his arm and Arthur doubted his mind would ever be the same.

"What about that one?" Arthur asked, pointing at another pass. "It's narrow, but that shouldn't be a problem."

"It caved in last winter."

Arthur sighed heavily and planted his chin on his fist.

"If ye left now, ye could likely make it before the snow's too deep." Gail suggested, coming out of her curtained off corner with her arms full of empty jars. Callum was, for once, nowhere to be seen. Arthur hadn't seen the boy leave his mother's side for more than a few minutes until today. Today, he hadn't seen him in hours.

"Merlin can't leave yet."

"Aye, but _ye_ could." She said, setting the jars down on the edge of the table─the only spot with any empty space. "Leave him here to recover and come back in the spring."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm not going to leave him here alone. They could find him again."

"Ye may have to. Ye're a king, he's a 'servant.' Yer kingdom needs ye, it donnae need him."

 _No, but I do._ "You'd be surprised. I'm not going to leave him behind."

Gail shrugged. "Suit yerself." She glanced at Merlin. "But I donnae think he wants ye here. I donnae ken what it is, but ye make him uncomfortable."

Arthur straightened in his seat and glared at her. "You don't─"

"He looks at ye funny whenever he donnae think ye're watchin'." Gail interrupted stubbornly. "I swear, he looks guilty. About what, I cannae ken, but he's blaming himself for sommat, and it's about ye."

"I don't think he much wants to talk right now." Arthur said quietly after a moment.

They were interrupted by a sudden commotion outside. A few children squealed gleefully and a couple of adults laughed. A few seconds later, Callum threw the door open and grinned in at his mother. "Mam, Abhainn and Reid are back! They've got lots of food! And ale, so Eoin can stop his bellyachin'."

Arthur looked at Gail questioningly.

"They went south weeks back t' get supplies for the winter. Our crops are dead and the livestock will be soon."

"How far south did they go?" Arthur asked, his interest piqued.

"Not to Camelot, but close." Gail said, reading his expression perfectly. "I'll ask if they heard anything."

"Thank you." Arthur may not be tied to Merlin anymore, but he still hadn't wanted to stray from his side, It was irrational and he knew it, but he felt that if he let him out of his sight his servant would disappear again. It didn't help matters that he could no longer feel Merlin every moment of the day. He could die in his sleep and Arthur wouldn't even notice.

He still felt like he was missing a piece of himself without the bridge.

Of course, he'd fight a hundred more trolls before he'd admit any of that to anyone.

Gail gave him a knowing smile and quietly left the house.

Arthur looked across the table to see Alymere giving him the same look, though he quickly slipped into an expression of professional concentration and focused on the map before him when Arthur spotted looked at him.

Okay, so maybe he didn't have to admit it to anyone.

Alymere glanced up at him thoughtfully, then back at the map. Arthur could see an idea brewing in his eyes, but he clearly didn't want to say it.

"If you have a suggestion, say it." Arthur ordered.

Alymere glanced up again and shifted uncomfortably. "You could perhaps...ask Gail if magic can clear the snow."

Arthur frowned. His gut reaction was to refuse, but it was worth considering anyway. The thought made him uncomfortable, but he _had_ already resorted to magic to save Merlin.

"It likely wouldn't be possible." He finally said. "She said herself that her magic is weak here, and that she isn't very powerful to begin with."

Alymere nodded silently and turned back to the maps.

Arthur heard Merlin stirring and looked over, not surprised to see an expression of pain on his face. He propped himself up on his shaking left arm, jaw clamped tightly shut, and began gingerly shifting his uncooperative legs over the side of the cot.

"What do you think you're doing?" Arthur asked, immediately standing up from his chair and crossing the room.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It's morning; I'm getting up." He rasped, sounding angry of all things. "I know it's somewhat of a foreign concept to you, but─"

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. You're in no condition to be walking around."

" _Because_ I haven't been walking around." Merlin argued, a guarded expression creeping onto his face to mask the pain. "I haven't stood in...how long was it, again?"

"Six months."

Merlin grit his teeth. "Six months. My strength is gone. I'm no good to you like this."

"You're no good to me if you exhaust yourself to death, either." Arthur argued.

"Damn it, Arthur. You're not stopping me." Merlin stated with such conviction that Arthur forgot his next rebuttal. He hadn't seen this sort of fire in Merlin in months, and after days of strange pliancy, Arthur didn't want to argue with _this_. This was far better, far closer to _Merlin_. Even if he did hurt himself a bit, it was worth it to get a bit of himself back.

"You're not helping me, either." Merlin rasped.

"I thought you were out of my head now."

"But I still know you very well."

Arthur smiled slightly, then went to where a pile of the knights' clean laundry sat piled on a chair. "At least put some clothes on first. The shutters are open and there are little girls out there."

Merlin looked down at his state of undress, only to abruptly look away again at the sight of his scars and protruding bones. "Right..."

Arthur grabbed one of his own pairs of trousers and a tunic he thought was Gwaine's. He was sure the knight wouldn't mind, and Arthur hoped it would be less loose on Merlin's starved frame than one of his own would be. He wished he had thought to bring some of Merlin's clothes with him, but it hadn't been on his list of priorities when he had left.

Merlin reached out to take the clothes...and missed by nearly a foot. Arthur tried not to look concerned and masked the slip-up by dropping the tunic over Merlin's head and helping him get his left arm through the sleeve.

"I can dress myself, Arthur. I'm not a child."

Arthur glared at him and for a second he saw a spark of something in Merlin's eye. Humor?

"No offense." Merlin added.

Alymere snorted in laughter and tried to cover it up with a cough.

Arthur glared at him next, but really he was glad for this moment of normalcy and let the banter distract him for the moment.

"Ha ha, very funny." Arthur grumbled as he helped Merlin with the trousers, trying to distract Merlin from being embarrassed. He couldn't imagine what this moment must be like for him, a servant, to be waited on by a king. "This may be your job, but it really isn't that difficult. I pay you too much. A child could do this."

"This shirt is backwards." Merlin commented, completely straight-faced.

Alymere didn't even bother disguising his laughter this time.

Arthur looked up and scowled at the offending garment. Merlin and Gwaine used to be of a similar size, but now he was nearly swimming in the extra fabric. "What?"

Merlin picked at the hem absently. "And also inside-out."

"How am I supposed to know? It's not _my_ shirt."

Merlin stared at him blankly for a few seconds before shaking his head and stiffly attempting to rise from the cot. He grit his teeth in pain and his legs shook, but he waved Arthur off determinedly. "Stop hovering, Arthur." He croaked breathlessly.

Arthur took a step back, but stayed within reach in case Merlin fell.

Merlin took a few shaking, shuffling steps across the room, sweat already beading on his brow.

"Maybe you should wait." Arthur suggested hesitantly, but Merlin was already shaking his head.

"No. I need to move." He gasped, his sentences becoming clipped. "Legs were burning. Terrible case of pins and needles."

Arthur nodded. Gail had said something about that when she began working on his dying legs. They were rebuilding themselves and bound to hurt for a while.

"The manacles were killing your legs. They're waking up again."

Merlin stumbled and pitched forward, his knees buckling beneath him. Arthur caught him with one hand on his elbow and the other on his waist. "Take it easy." He said, leading him another couple steps to a chair.

Merlin's eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and quick. " _Damn it_." He breathed, rubbing his hand over his face. He opened his eyes again and stared blankly at a wall. "I can't even walk across a room."

"You will." Arthur said matter-of-factly. "We'll have you fighting fit in no time."

"Arthur, I can't even _breathe_ without my shoulder hurting. That's never going away. I can barely speak. I can't think without─" He cut off abruptly, his eyes twitching. He stared at something past Arthur, something Arthur knew wasn't really there.

"What do you see?" Arthur asked quietly.

Merlin didn't look away from the wall. "Freya."

"You mentioned her before. Who is she?"

"A...friend." Merlin sighed. "She died years ago."

"Why don't you try to close your mind?" Arthur asked, sitting down at the foot of a cot. "You can't leave yourself open like this."

"I can't...I'm too scattered. I can't have barriers in two places at once. I can't concentrate that well. There are more important things to protect than my mind."

"Maybe I could have helped. Why did you break the bridge?"

"I had to be sure. I could never break it before, whether it was real or in dreams. He was stronger than you."

Arthur nodded, accepting the answer easily. He probably would have done the same in his position. "What are you protecting?"

"Don't ask. You don't want to know."

"I think I do."

"That's just too bad then."

Arthur rolled his eyes in exasperation. " _Mer_ lin─"

"Yer kingdom's a right confusin' mess." Gail interrupted, stepping inside and letting Gwaine in behind her.

Arthur and Merlin both sat up straighter and asked "What?" simultaneously.

Gail looked between the two of them blankly and Gwaine grinned. "Do ye want the bad news or the freaky news first?"

"Just tell me."

"Bad news first, then. Rumour has it ye've gone missing. Or ye're ill. Or ye think ye're ill and lettin' yer wife run things as practice for when ye kick it. Or that she's assassinated ye and taken the throne in secret. Others insist that ye're simply so confident in Camelot's security that ye donnae bother to show up in person one agrees on that part, but they ken ye're gone now."

Arthur cursed under his breath. He'd been afraid of this.

"But that's nae the best bit." Gail continued, looking excited. "Someone tried to take the throne from the Queen."

Arthur abruptly stood. "How is that the 'best bit?'" He demanded.

"Calm down, Arthur. They failed." Gail said, dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand. "Rumour is there was an army of thousands camped outside the castle, in the woods, all ready to storm the castle in the morning."

"And?" Alymere pressed when the sorceress paused for dramatic effect.

"And...they were all killed in the night. Camelot could hear the screams, and when a patrol was sent out in the morning there was nothing left but ash and bones."

Arthur almost missed Merlin's smirk─almost.

"Some say a devil did it. Others think the army was usin' magic and lost control. I say 'tis obvious what happened."

"And what's that?" Arthur asked, watching Merlin out of the corner of his eye. Merlin didn't appear to be surprised in the slightest, which was odd, to say the least.

"Camelot is being protected in yer absence. Who could and _would_ do that but Emrys? This is finally proof that he exists. I dinnae doubt Lailoken, but, ye ken, 'tis still exciting t' see evidence."

Arthur would have scoffed, were it not for the tiny hint of a satisfied smile that touched Merlin's lips again.

"How could one man have the power to destroy an entire army?" Alymere asked.

"The prophecies say Emrys is the most powerful warlock ever to walk the earth."

Merlin actually laughed at that. It was a hollow, soulless laugh that chilled Arthur to the core and it was so unexpected that Alymere accidentally knocked one of the jars off the table. It crashed into a dozen pieces on the floor, but no one paid any attention to it. Every head in the room turned to look at Merlin, who was just staring down at his skeletal legs.

The room was silent for an exceedingly uncomfortable minute.

"I feel like I'm missing the punchline here..." Gwaine finally said with a nervous smile.

Merlin looked up at Arthur, his face serious. "You can't rely on Emrys. Go home. Camelot is protected from its enemies but not its people. They will begin to lose faith if you stay away any longer."

"Guinevere can handle things. I trust her."

"As do I, but she cannot stop a civil war. If the people think you have abandoned them nothing will be able to stop them."

Arthur stepped forward, his voice lowering. "I didn't search for six months just to leave you on the wrong side of the mountains."

Merlin flinched. "I wish you hadn't." His voice was so quiet Arthur wasn't sure he had heard right.

"What?"

Merlin met his gaze. "You shouldn't have searched for me. It wasn't worth it."

"How can you say that?" Arthur asked, shaking his head. He had risked everything on this quest─his knights, his life, his _kingdom_ ─and Merlin wanted to just throw that all away? "You can't have wanted to _stay_ there?"

Gail cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Alymere and Gwaine. "I think it's best if we go help the others unpack the supplies. Maybe we can keep Eoin out of the ale until tonight, at least. Probably too late for that one..."

"Don't even _think_ that." Merlin whispered hoarsely, what little voice he had cracking on the words. " _Never_ think that."

Alymere stood and nodded, casting a worried glance at Arthur and Merlin before exiting the house with Gail, giving servant and master some privacy. Gwaine, however, ever nosy, stayed where he was.

"What am I supposed to think, Merlin? None of this makes sense to me. What am I missing?"

Merlin shook his head and leaned forward, pressing his fist against his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut.

Something finally clicked into place and Arthur took a step back. "You know him, don't you? Emrys. You know who he is. _That's_ why they kept you so long. They wanted to know who he is."

Merlin continued to shake his head, his entire body quivering along with it, but Arthur pressed on, the accumulated stresses of the past six months all pouring out at once. "That's why you won't tell me anything. You were conspiring with a sorcerer for years behind my back. If he's supposed to be my greatest ally don't you think I should have known about him? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Arthur..." Gwaine interrupted and took a hesitant step towards him.

"I am _King_ , Merlin. If there is a powerful sorcerer following me around and interfering with matters in _my_ kingdom, no matter how benevolent he may be, _I deserve to know_."

" _No_ ," Merlin choked out from behind his closed fist, still shaking his head. "I can't. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then _tell me_!" Arthur snapped, raising his voice but not quite shouting. "Make me understand!"

Gwaine grabbed his arm and pulled him back, but he shook him off roughly. "Arthur, back off."

"I _can't_." Merlin whispered, his voice close to a sob. "I wish I had but it's too late. I'm _sorry._ You have to believe me. Please, just trust me."

"I did trust you, Merlin, and you _lied_ to me. Blind trust has always led to─"

Merlin abruptly stood, and though he swayed unsteadily and his eyes were brimming with tears, he stayed upright. "How _dare you_." He whispered, instantly stilling both Arthur and Gwaine. "How _dare you_ compare me with the likes of Morgana and Agravaine. Blind? _Blind_?"

He raised his left hand, gesturing to himself. "Have I not given you enough? I have bargained my life for yours more times than you will ever know. I have sacrificed _everything_ for you. You think it isn't killing me to keep secrets like this? I've lost too much to these secrets to give them up now. My father, Freya, my friends, my eye, six bloody months of my life and my _right arm_." His voice raised into a hoarse shout and with the final words he brought up his left hand and punched it into his right shoulder for emphasis, agony and grief contorting his features. Arthur heard a sickening crunch as the loose bone fragments ground together inside his arm, but he couldn't look away from the tears that ran down Merlin's face.

Gwaine stepped forward and grabbed Merlin's arm, restraining him from harming himself further. He said something placatory, but neither man was listening to him.

"I could have ended it." Merlin's voice was back to a hitched whisper. "I could have ended it all months ago but I _didn't_ , for _you_. I let them rifle through my mind and tear apart my body _for you_. I let them _brand_ me like an animal. I'm missing pieces of myself I'll never get back and for all I know this conversation is all in my head right now."

Merlin took a stumbling step back, shaking his head. "So don't you dare try to tell me what you _deserve_. I never ask you for anything. So if all _this_ doesn't earn me a bit of 'blind' trust from _Your Majesty_ then you can go fuck yourself, you selfish bastard."

Merlin's knees buckled and Gwaine caught him, gently lowering him to the floor where he knelt, sobbing and rocking. He seemed to crumple in on himself until he was leaning forward, his head resting on Gwaine's shoulder and rapidly turning the sleeve of his tunic wet with tears.

For several seconds, Arthur could do nothing but stare in silence as Gwaine knelt beside his friend with his hand on his good shoulder in comfort of wounds Arthur had inflicted. Finally, feeling the need to do _something_ , Arthur took a step forwards. "Merlin..."

Gwaine looked up at him and shook his head, his expression cold and unreadable. "Get out, Sire."

Arthur got out.


	17. Chapter XVI

**Hey y'all, sorry about the delay. This chapter was really hard for some reason. I kept rewriting it over and over again, or just cutting big chunks out and moving them around...It was a big mess for a while, but here it is. I also had a weird dream the other night where Gail suddenly decided that they needed to head in the complete opposite direction (both literally and figuratively) that I was going to have them go, _riding brightly colored and glowing horses from Oz, no less_ , and I was scrambling to rearrange scenes so they would still work because her _genius_ plan was moving up the timetable considerably and I wouldn't have room for everything anymore. So I woke up to my scenes all scrambled around in my head and it took a whole day to sort them out again...Ugh, _thanks_ , Gail. Your stupid plan was stupid, anyway.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter XVI**

Arthur stomped through the woods surrounding the village until he could no longer hear the sounds of revelry behind him and then he stomped some more. He didn't spare a glance back at the village or at the woods around him. He didn't care if he got himself lost. He didn't even care that he had forgotten his sword and was defenseless. It didn't matter.

Merlin was not the man he had thought he was.

He had lied to him, gone behind his back on matters directly involved with his kingdom and its safety, and broken Camelot's laws.

But Arthur couldn't bring himself to care about any of it, much less to be angry. He knew it should feel like a betrayal, like the _treason_ that it was, but it didn't. All he could feel was the worst guilt of his life.

Whatever Merlin had done, he had done for Arthur, and he had just _attacked_ him for it. He had kicked him at his lowest.

Arthur stopped walking and ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, desperately trying to erase the image of Merlin's face when he had told him he wouldn't trust him. He had looked so tired, so _betrayed_. Hurt.

Something in Arthur snapped at the memory of Merlin's tears and before he knew what he was doing he was screaming and beating his fist into the nearest tree, again and again and again until the dry bark was dented and stained with his blood, but even when the blood ran down his arm and the tree, not even when it began to drip onto the dust below was it enough to begin to make up for all Merlin had given for him.

 _I don't deserve any of it._

Exhausted, Arthur finally let his bloodied hand fall limply at his side and leaned his forehead against the trunk instead, revelling in the pain in his hand. It was a good distraction. A holiday, compared to what was waiting for him back in the healer's house.

"I didn't ask." Arthur whispered into the tree. "Dammit, Merlin, I never _asked_ for this."

"You didn't have to."

Arthur spun around to face the owner of the voice, his throbbing hand automatically going to his waist. It was no use, as he hadn't thought to grab his sword before leaving, but it didn't matter that he was unarmed. He could likely take the intruder on with one hand tied behind his back and his eyes closed, if he had to.

Lailoken picked his way slowly through the woods, looking unfazed by Arthur's recent display of emotion. "Your friend is his own man who can make his own decisions. His decision has always been what he thought best for those he loved, whether they asked him to or not."

"What would you know about it?" Arthur spat.

"I know quite a bit about quite a few things, Once and Future." Lailoken said with a smile. "I _am_ a Seer, after all."

"So you knew all of this was going to could have stopped it." Arthur asked, his eyes narrowing in anger.

Lailoken shook his head. "The path you are on now was not a likely one, and was chosen for just that reason. The Mirror knows what Destiny wants, and _this_ was not it, so naturally they strove for it. I see hundreds of paths. I cannot possibly warn people of every one of them."

"You know who Emrys is. Why has Merlin been helping him? Who is he?"

"He is the most powerful ally the Once and─"

"I _know_ that." Arthur interrupted, not caring if it was rude. He was tired of vaguity. "But who _is_ he?"

Lailoken paused thoughtfully for a moment, then shook his head. "I won't tell you that. If you knew now, it would set you on an...unpleasant path. But you do need to find him."

"More unpleasant than this one?" Arthur asked disbelievingly.

"Yes."

"Is that why Merlin won't tell me, either?"

The old man shrugged. "I see paths, not thoughts or motives. But he has his reasons and you will trust them."

Arthur peered at Lailoken quizzically. "Was that an order or a prediction?"

Lailoken just smiled. "Does it make a difference?"

Arthur shook his head. "No. But why should I trust _you_?"

"There is no need to trust me, or believe my prophecies." Lailoken stated. "Trust yourself, trust your friends, and trust Emrys. I won't tell you what could happen. It is...a troublesome thing, to know your own future. Besides, you wouldn't trust any advice I could give you and that would merely complicate things."

"Then why are you here?" Arthur asked, throwing his hands up questioningly.

"I live here."

"No, _here_ specifically. In the woods. Why did you follow me only to tell me you won't tell me anything?"

"I am an old man, Arthur, I can do what I like." Lailoken said. More than a hint of petulance crept into his tone, but his eyes were smiling. "Mostly, though, I'm here to distract you from breaking your poor hand. Those bones are not at fault here, and you are going to need them soon."

Arthur looked down at his split knuckles and the blood that still dripped from them.

"Things can still end well."

Arthur looked up at that, the anger slipping from his eyes. "But they probably won't."

"That is up to you. I would like to give you _one_ piece of advice, if you will take it." The old man offered.

Arthur gestured for him to continue.

"Keep your boots on, and find Emrys. Now, if you don't mind, I have senile old man things to do." With that, Lailoken smiled inanely and began to mosey off into the east, deeper into the woods, leaving a bewildered king behind.

Arthur watched him go until he was out of sight, then shook his head and muttered something about senility under his breath. Lailoken seemed harmless enough, but so had Dragoon.

He remained in the woods nearly until dusk, but he still couldn't bring himself to go back to Gail's house yet. He made his way slowly back to the village; slow enough this time to truly see it. He hadn't known it was possible, but the land looked even worse than it had on their journey. The trees were turning gray, as though the life had been sucked right out of them─which, he realized belatedly, it had. The ground was dry and crumbled beneath his feet, despite the fact that it was early autumn. The ground here should be soft and wet this time of year. He had to step over several fallen branches and a few whole trees that had simply split and fallen to splinters.

When he finally reentered the village he could see it didn't fare much better. In the seventeen days─ _had it really only been seventeen days?_ ─he had been in the village this was the first he had actually been outside the physician's house. He had been too distracted on his way out to see much of anything, and all he had gotten before today was the view from the window, but now he had time to take it all in. It made a good excuse not to see Merlin again, too.

The village was a decent size, with maybe a hundred houses and its own tavern. Gail's house was in the center where it could be easily reached by anyone. Arthur noted that the tavern was barely thirty yards away and wondered whether the physician's house had been built near the tavern or if the tavern had been built near the physician. Either way, it had been a wise decision if the patrons here were anything like the ones from other taverns he had visited.

On the edge of the village there sat a couple of pens housing a handful of scrawny, sad-looking chickens and one with two pigs. Shriveled vegetable gardens were scattered about amidst the houses. The few dead plants that remained were tiny and had clearly stopped growing in spring.

Dead forestry surrounded the village on the east, west and south sides, leaving only the north end open to hilly plains.

Several houses appeared unkempt and there was no sign of smoke from the chimneys. At least half of the homes had been abandoned, but the villagers that remained were busy going about their lives as usual. The wagons had been unloaded and the villagers were still celebrating the return of their neighbors and the goods they had brought back with them, but Arthur could tell they wouldn't last long if things kept going the way they were. Even if they had enough food to last the winter, what would happen when their wells dried up? Or if they miraculously stayed functional, what would happen come spring? They could not keep going south for supplies. They would run out of money before the year was out.

Arthur stood in the streets, breathing in the stale night air and listening to the villagers laughing and singing in the tavern. These people's home was rotting around them and still they kept going, kept laughing.

He had no right to be out here hiding. He needed to be figuring out how to fix what can be fixed and how to deal with what couldn't. These people deserved to have a home. They took him and his party in, even though doing so could lead their enemy right to them. Arthur owed it to them to fight back.

With one last look at the village, Arthur took a deep breath and started on the path back the Gail's house. The streets were dark, but it didn't take long before he spotted Gwaine sitting on the porch with his head in his hands, illuminated only by the flickering glow of firelight through the half-open door behind him.

The knight raised his head when he heard Arthur approach. He looked exhausted.

"How's Merlin?" Arthur forced himself to ask, dreading the answer.

"Asleep." Gwaine answered shortly, standing up and glancing inside before shutting the door softly to prevent their voices from disturbing Merlin, but leaving the two of them in near-complete darkness. "Wore himself out pacing a few hours after you left. He barely said a word to me the whole time, but he had several conversations with his mother and Gaius."

Arthur winced, but he knew Gwaine didn't see it in the dark. Gwaine stood abruptly, the porch creaking under his weight. "He told Gaius why they cut his eyes." He spat, and Arthur realized that Gwaine's anger was not directed towards him. Not entirely, at least. "He said it was a _test_. They wanted to see how strong his will was. If he could hold perfectly still, the blade wouldn't reach through to his eyes.

"Clearly he was stronger than they would have liked, because he only twitched twice and he never gave them what they wanted. That's _sixteen_ cuts where he didn't move a muscle. I don't know how he did it."

Arthur shook his head, glad that he hadn't eaten in hours. "Bastards."

"That's what I said. He didn't seem to hear me." Gwaine said. Arthur heard him shift uncomfortably. "He did all of that for you, Arthur. _You_. That much is clear. I want to know what is going on just as much as you do, but Merlin has earned his right to silence. If you want answers, you're going to have to go about it differently. If you push him like that again, king or not, I _will_ throw you from the room."

Arthur shook his head in the dark. "He isn't going to forgive me, is he?"

Gwaine snorted. "Of course he is. I don't think he knows _how_ to not forgive you. Selfless git doesn't know what's good for him. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go check on the horses or something before I commit treason."

Arthur watched him go, hands shoved into his pockets, a dejected silhouette that was very much _not Gwaine_. He stared into the distance long after Gwaine had disappeared from his sight before realizing that he was stalling again.

 _Don't be a coward, Arthur, he's_ asleep _for goodness sake._

He hesitated for only one more second before quietly pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Merlin was, as promised, asleep on his cot, though Arthur noted he had turned around from his usual position so he was facing the door and his head was at the foot of the bed. He was lying on his left side with his good arm hanging limply off the side of the cot. His face was scrunched in pain, as was the new norm when he wasn't awake and trying to hide it from everyone. There was no point in trying to hide it from Arthur; he had felt it himself. But of course, Merlin did anyway. He had always been more stoic than anyone had given him credit for.

Arthur crept across the room as quietly as he could and sat down on an empty chair. He was determined not to sleep until he had given Merlin the apology he deserved, even if he had to wait all night or longer for him to wake again.

He wasn't sure just how long he sat on that chair, lost in his thoughts, but it was not yet dawn when Merlin abruptly jerked out of bed with a muffled yelp.

Arthur leapt to his feet and moved to help Merlin up, but Merlin was already scooting away from him on the floor and clutching his right shoulder tightly. Arthur stopped, not wanting to startle him further, and took a step back instead.

"Merlin?"

The only light came from the fireplace at the other end of the room, but Arthur could still see that Merlin's face was pale and sweaty. He twitched at the sound of his name but barely spared Arthur a glance before his eyes started scanning the room.

Arthur sat back down, leaving Merlin where he was on the floor in a tangle of sweaty blankets with his back pressed against the cot and his too-long hair hanging in his face. He wanted to help him up, but he wasn't sure what mental state he was in and didn't want to alarm him. It would be best to leave Merlin to calm down on his own.

Several more minutes passed before Merlin's breaths began to come more evenly and his fluttering gaze slowed, and Arthur finally realized that Merlin was looking everywhere but at him.

"Merlin?" Arthur said again.

Merlin's eyes darted towards him, then away again just as fast. He put his left hand against the cot and pushed himself to his feet before stumbling across the room and away from Arthur.

Arthur watched him pace back and forth at the other end of the room, every so often picking up a jar of something and frowning at it only to set it down someplace else. Several times he tried to grab a jar, only to miss by several inches and have to try again. Twice he paused at a window and fingered the curtains, but he didn't draw them back and look outside. Both times he looked like he wanted to, but then he dropped the fabric and abruptly resumed pacing.

"I owe you an apology." Arthur said when he couldn't take the silence any longer.

Merlin paused, then picked up another jar off of the table and hobbled stiffly across the room as if he hadn't been interrupted. The silent treatment was disconcerting, but Arthur continued.

"I should not have said what I did. I don't like the thought of people close to me keeping secrets. But I do trust you, Merlin. More than anyone. I'm sorry I said otherwise."

Merlin set the jar down on a windowsill─carefully avoiding looking out the window─and shook his head, all without even glancing at Arthur. He waved his hand as if swatting away an irritating insect. "Ssh."

It took Arthur a moment to realize his mouth was hanging open. "Pardon?"

Merlin ignored him and focused his entire attention on the jar on the windowsill. After a moment he apparently decided there was a better place for it and picked it up again.

"Look, I know you're angry w─"

"I'm not angry." Merlin interrupted quietly, glancing up at him before frowning and looking down at the jar again with an annoyed shake of his head.

He paused briefly before amending under his breath. "Much...not angry _much._ " He waved his hand─and by extension, the jar─again and shook his head. "Ssh. I'm not a...a _hypocrite_."

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

Merlin sighed, then hobbled across the room to the table and tried to set the jar down again, only to miss the table and nearly drop it on the floor. He sighed again, this time in frustration, and took another step forward before setting it down properly again. Only a moment later he reached out and picked up another, smaller jar. "You're not...I told you to leave and you left. You shouldn't be here."

"You know me, Merlin. I never listen to you. That's my problem."

Merlin looked up at him, and this time he didn't look away again, but he appeared confused. He hefted the jar in his hand, testing its weight. "But...Ugh, _damn_ it. I'm getting tangled again."

"What─"

"Heads up." Without further warning, Merlin turned and lobbed the jar through the air.

Arthur caught it mere inches before it would have hit him in the face, only to fumble it and catch it with the other hand. He pressed his throbbing right hand to his chest and looked down at the jar in his left incredulously. " _Mer_ lin!"

"Just checking." Merlin rasped, and before he turned away again Arthur swore he spotted the hint of a smile on his lips. He rubbed briefly at the back of his neck before turning his attention to a bundle of herbs on the table. "I don't _like_ being crazy, you know. Feeding them makes it worse."

"Right..." Arthur said, setting the jar down under his chair. "So, now that we have established...whatever it is we have just established─"

"I'm sorry."

Arthur paused, then shook his head even though Merlin's back was turned. He had begun to pick at the bundle of herbs. "You're not the one who should be apologizing, Merlin."

Merlin shook his head. "For lying. I never... _wanted_ to. But I couldn't be sure...I should have...I didn't even have to lie about everything. It just became a habit. I never should have let it."

"I'm sure you had reason."

Merlin nodded, then shook his head. "Not for everything. Some things it was just easier. I won't lie anymore. I'm tired of lies. I can't give you the truth, but...I won't lie to you again."

"Then I'll trust you." Arthur said quietly.

Merlin crushed the herbs in his hand. "Don't promise that." He snapped. "Not when you don't know...You don't even know who I am, what I've done."

Arthur shifted in his chair. "That's not true."

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, but Arthur cut him off. "Obviously you have a lot of secrets, and I _don't_ know what you do with your spare time, but I know who you _are_. That's what matters, isn't it? We wouldn't need trust if we had no secrets."

" _You_ don't have secrets."

"Everyone has secrets, Merlin."

Merlin scoffed quietly and dropped the herbs. He stepped away from the table on shaking legs and stumbled back to lean against the windowsill. He stared intently at the wood under his hands, but didn't lift his head and look out.

"Not like mine." He whispered after a moment.

Arthur hesitated, then asked a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind for weeks. "How long?"

Merlin lifted his head and looked back at him. "What?"

"How long have you had secrets?"

Merlin's eyes darted back and forth for a few seconds, but he didn't answer.

"Since we met?" Arthur asked. Bizarrely, he found himself wanting to smile as he remembered swinging a maze at Merlin's head. He had never swung hard enough to do more than bruise, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Merlin had managed to evade nearly every swing. He had thought, then, that there was something about Merlin that he couldn't see, and he now realized that that feeling had never gone away, merely become familiar.

Merlin shook his head, not quite meeting Arthur's gaze. "Long before then. Forever, I suppose. I just didn't have anyone to hide them from before."

Arthur shrugged with nonchalance he didn't feel. "Then I don't need to know."

Merlin's eyes narrowed in surprise.

"I _want_ to know, because you're right; I'm a selfish bastard. But I don't need to know. We've gone this long without me knowing just fine, so if you really can't tell me I'm going to trust you."

Merlin sighed, stiffly pushed himself away from the window, crossed the room again and finally sat down on the edge of a cot.

"It's still not going to work. You need to go home."

"I will. As soon as you can travel."

"I'm not going with you."

"As I said before, I did _not_ search for you for six months only to abandon you, injured, in the middle of nowhere. You belong in Camelot."

Merlin flinched violently, then shuddered and jumped up, resuming his pacing. His steps were considerably shakier than they had been when he had begun, and Arthur wondered how much strength he had left. "I don't know where I belong anymore."

"If you don't want to stay in Camelot anymore I can't stop you and I certainly won't fault you, but you need to heal first. And you need to see Gaius and Guinevere before you go, at least. They miss you."

Merlin rubbed at his chest as though it itched, then swatted something away from his neck and shook his head. "No. I can't see them, not like this."

"They didn't know if you were dead or alive, Merlin. _This_ is better than dead and they need to see that you're not dead."

"Is it?" Merlin rubbed at his neck again. "I can't even open the door, Arthur, how am I supposed to keep going?"

"You can get past that. You can't get past being dead."

"I've _tried_. I spent all night _trying_. Or maybe all day, I don't know, I can't look out the damn windows, either." Merlin fumed, still rubbing furiously. "I'm a fucking coward."

"You're _not_ a coward, Merlin. All those jokes I made...I never meant any of them. You're the bravest man I know."

A muffled peal of drunken laughter reached their ears and Merlin flinched from it and shook his head. "They're out there, waiting for me. I know they're not real, but they're real to _me_. How can I be brave if I'm afraid of _voices_? They're memories, just memories. Right?"

His voice dropped into a harsh whisper and his fingers began to dig into the back of his neck. He clawed at it harder, drawing blood but not noticing. "He won't stop _touching me_."

Arthur stood and crossed the room in seconds, catching Merlin's bloodied hand and pulling it away from his neck easily. His skin felt too warm, almost feverish. Merlin flinched and tried to pull away, but he was still too weak. "Stop it, Merlin, you're hurting yourself."

"I can't get them off. He's always there, breathing down my neck."

"He's not real. We killed them."

"I _know_ that, but it doesn't make any difference." Merlin argued, trying to gesture at his head with his restrained hand. "They're still alive in here, where the rest of me should be."

Arthur guided Merlin to one of the cots and nearly forced him to sit down. It wasn't hard to do─Merlin's legs were so shaky he practically collapsed on his own.

"You can fix this, Merlin. It's just going to take time." He assured him.

Merlin leaned his head forwards and cradled it in his hand. "I can't."

"Yes, you can." Arthur argued firmly, his hand still on Merlin's elbow. "They're not going to beat you."

Merlin shook his head again, not looking up. "I'm so _tired_ , Arthur." His broken voice was so quiet that if Arthur had been any further away he wouldn't have heard it.

Arthur nodded and stood, putting his hand on Merlin's good shoulder briefly. "Stay there. I'll get something to clean up your neck."

Merlin didn't respond, so Arthur turned away and started looking around the house, trying to remember where Gail kept the clean bandages.

He rolled his eyes at himself. Seventeen days in this house and he still didn't know his way around.

He thought he remembered Gail bringing supplies out from behind the curtained-off room in the corner, so he started there. He pulled the curtain aside and stepped in with a glance around. One of the walls bore several shelves heavy with books, which Arthur ignored. There was a large desk against the other wall and a wooden chest beside it.

Figuring the chest was his best bet─and hoping it wasn't just full of Gail's underthings─Arthur stepped towards it and lifted the lid. Inside were a handful of tiny jars─she seemed to have an endless supply of the things─nestled among exactly what he was looking for.

Arthur smiled, glad he hadn't had to search the whole house, then grabbed up a couple clean pieces of cloth and turned back around.

Merlin was already asleep, lying on his left side with his back to Arthur, when Arthur got back to the main room. Arthur took a second─it was habit now─to make sure he was still breathing before he wet one of the pieces of fabric with clean water and carefully wiped at the back of Merlin's neck.

The blood cleared away easily and Arthur was relieved to see that the gouges weren't deep and had already begun to scab over. It wouldn't need to be bandaged. Arthur wondered if Merlin had even realized what he had done.

He frowned as he saw yet another scar under all the blood. At first he thought maybe it was just another scratch, but upon closer inspection it had clearly been made by a knife. It was perfectly straight, about two inches long and ran horizontally across the back of his neck, just above his shoulders. It was too neat to have been an innocent accident.

Arthur clenched his jaw and stood, shoving aside the familiar anger at the sight of yet another scar. This one was small and looked relatively harmless, and Arthur doubted it had even hurt much in comparison to the others, but the thought of someone _intentionally_ cutting open Merlin's neck made him furious. It felt almost good to be angry at someone other than himself.

He stalked back into the curtained room and threw the unused bandages back into the chest where he had found them and started to turn around before something caught his eye. He turned back with a frown, squinting down in the dim light at the glint of metal under the disturbed piles of fabric. After only a moment's hesitation he knelt down before the chest and moved a couple of the bandages aside to get a better look at what was nestled underneath.

He froze in disbelief, heart pounding in his chest.

Sitting in the box, looking innocent and harmless, were the broken chains that had bound Merlin for six months and magically rotted his legs. He had been sure the abominable things had been destroyed.

Disbelief was swiftly replaced by fury again as he carefully pulled the offending objects from the chest, making sure they made no noise that could wake Merlin. He could think of no reason a _physician_ would keep such instruments of torture, yet here they were, sitting in a box of bandages and potions, their rough edges and clear crystals still caked with Merlin's blood.

He clenched them tightly in his fists and stood, already heading for the door before he thought about what he was doing. For the second time that night Arthur found himself storming from the house.

This time he didn't forget to grab Excalibur on his way out.


	18. Chapter XVII

**Hey, all! Long time no see! *ducks under a shield***

 **Seriously, though, I didn't mean to take almost two months on one measly chapter. My job started up all of a sudden and it turns out that working full-time + chores + school really only leaves a couple hours of free time every day and I need at least one of those for my workouts. I get grumpy if I can't kick stuff.**

 **And now for something completely unrelated, HOLY SHIT, GUYS. When I started writing this I thought, "Hey, wouldn't it be cool if I got 500 views? Or, hey, maybe I'll even get a thousand!" Then I laughed at myself and my delusions and published the first chapter.**

 **OVER. TWELVE. THOUSAND. Geeminy, people. Group hug, anyone?**

 **So, anyways, terribly sorry for the delay, but here it is! Thanks for reading!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter XVII**

Arthur stormed across the dusty street, sword in his hand and fire in his eyes. The sky had begun to lighten and nearly everyone had gone to bed or passed out in a drunken haze by now, but there were still two figures standing in the street.

Gail was easy to spot. She stood outside the tavern with a drunk patron, bathed in flickering yellow light. For just a second, as it shone off of her hair, she looked like she was drenched in blood.

Arthur shook the notion off just in time to see her push the drunk against the wall and jerk sharply on his shoulder. He heard the joint pop back into place and the man screamed in pain, but Arthur felt no sympathy for the man. He wished Merlin's shoulder was so easily fixed.

"Stay away from stairs, Eoin." Gail said with a long-suffering sigh as the drunk thanked her with slurred words and ambled off.

"Sorceress." Arthur interrupted as he stalked forward.

Gail's head immediately snapped up and she turned around, her expression already wary from his tone. Wariness quickly morphed into alarm when she saw the sword glinting in the torchlight.

"What's happened? Are they here?" She blurted out.

She thought he'd been attacked, he realized quickly. He wasn't surprised─his knuckles were bloody, his sword was drawn and he had walked for so long that night that the old wound in his leg was acting up and it was getting hard to disguise his limp. He wanted to scream at her, condemn her, _rage_ at her, but for the first time in his life, he found himself so infuriated that he couldn't think of a single word to say. But there was no need for words to explain the situation.

Arthur stopped short several feet away from her and, silently, cast the chains onto the dirt between them. It was a clear challenge, as good as a gauntlet but far more damning.

Her gaze followed the chains and Arthur watched as she blanched and looked up again, taking a step back. "Look, I can explain."

"You have thirty seconds." Arthur managed to grind out. He saw one of the drunks start to slowly sidle away in the corner of his eye.

"Maybe..." Gail said, holding a hand out placatingly. "Maybe ye can put the sword away first?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed and his grip on the sword only tightened. "Twenty."

"I jist wanted to learn about what they do!" Gail defended.

Arthur saw red. "Where is your son?"

She paled instantly and took a step back, but her voice was firm. "Not here."

"Good." Arthur growled. "I would hate for him to watch if I had to kill you."

Gail visibly deflated with relief. "Oh, is that all?"

Arthur swiftly raised Excalibur so the tip rested under her chin. "Five seconds."

Gail's eyes narrowed and her left arm shot up and twisted, swiping the blade aside as she stepped forward and thrust a kick into his chest, knocking him back. "It dinnae make sense. The manacles, they _dinnae_ make sense. There was no _reason_ for them. I kept 'em for curiosity's sake, that's all. I am a physician, I cannae help wanting to learn."

"There was no _reason_ for any of this!" Arthur spat, striking her in the shoulder with his left hand and shoving her roughly into the wall. "There was _no_ reason not to destroy those abominations weeks ago. The chains hurt him, _still_ hurt him. He tries to hide it but I have felt it, I can see it in his face. You _know_ what they're for, so don't give me that shit!"

"Ye're wrong." Gail pressed on defiantly, swatting his hand away and aiming another punch at his face, which he caught and held. "We've seen what they did, but nae what they're for. If they only wanted t' kill the flesh there are easier, even _pedestrian_ ways to do it. Look at them, Arthur!"

"I've seen them." He continued to see them in his nightmares and in the scars still on Merlin's ankles and wrist.

"Look again. Those runes? I've never seen them before. The rot they were causing...I cannae find a reason for it. Whatever these things were for, it should nae have done that, and if they had, his legs should be healing faster now that they're gone. He was healing until he broke the bridge, but since then I've hardly seen a difference. They're inlaid with the same crystals they were keeping magic in, but these are empty, and if they had wanted t' steal his soul for the power, they would have jist killed him and taken it. Asides, a person's soul would be nearly impossible to control for their own uses. It donnae make sense."

Arthur felt something click into place in his mind. Magic. The crystals stored magic. He wanted to slap himself for even thinking it, but that could be the piece of the puzzle he had always been missing. His tired mind began to slowly connect the dots. All the strange moments, the unexplained victories and the sly smiles.

 _The Once and Future King's closest ally..._

What if Merlin wasn't protecting Emrys. What if he _was_ Emrys? If the Mirror was collecting magic, surely someone as powerful as he was supposed to be would be a great prize.

"Asides, I saw a bit of his soul when we were makin' the bridge, and I've never seen a person with so little magic." Gail continued, oblivious to Arthur's epiphany. " _Ye've_ got more in ye than I could see in him. It jist donnae make sense."

The puzzle piece slid back out of place and fell away, leaving Arthur feeling like an idiot. How could he have thought, even for half a second, that _Merlin_ was a sorcerer? A moment later he concluded that he must be more exhausted than he had thought because Merlin _couldn't_ be Emrys. Emrys was, apparently, lurking in Camelot and burning sieging armies in the night. He must be more tired than he had thought. Besides, if Merlin was a sorcerer, Arthur would have noticed long ago.

 _Like you noticed Morgana?_

He threw her fist roughly to the side and took a step back, freeing her.

The feelings of idiocy were promptly replaced by even stronger feelings of guilt. How, mere hours after assuring himself and Merlin of his trust in the servant, could he accuse him, even mentally, of being something like _that_?

"What does it matter what the motive was?" Arthur growled, pushing aside thoughts he was too overwhelmed and exhausted to consider. "What is done is done, I can't change it now. I can only stop it from happening again, and _keeping_ those...things will achieve nothing. What kind of physician stores instruments of torture?"

"What kind of warrior refuses to learn about their enemy?" Gail shot back angrily. "If we donnae ken what their goal is or what their methods are we cannae hope to win against them. They will crush us all, and Albion with us. Yer friend innae talkin', and I donnae expect him to, so we need to learn some other way and so far, this is the only one I see."

"Why does it matter so much to you? You aren't out for revenge for your family. You'd have done it and died already if you were, but you've been living here with your son for years since. You put him in danger here, and you know it. They took him once; it's only a matter of time before they try again."

"Ye think I _want_ to stay here?" Gail snapped, taking another step forwards and shoving at his chest.

He caught her wrist with his left hand and twisted her arm around so her back was to him.

"I don't see anything stopping you. Unless you _are_ working with them." He growled in her ear.

The sorceress stomped down on his foot and jabbed her elbow into his already sore ribs, not hard enough to do any real damage, but hard enough to hurt and make him let go. She had treated his injuries weeks ago and knew just where, and how hard, to hit. He staggered back a step as she spun around again to face him.

Gail stared at him incredulously for a few seconds, then punched him hard on the arm. " _Ye're_ the one stoppin' me, Arthur! For me and Cal it's wait here for the Mirror to find us or go south where we'll be hunted and burned alive! Maybe ye'll be great one day, but right now ye're killing us. Ye might nae care 'bout a few insignificant villagers days north of yer home, but if ye donnae watch it yer ignorance will kill _yer_ people as well."

She took a deep breath and another step back, shaking her head. "But despite that, Emrys and ye are my son's only chance. My king is old and complacent and does nothin' to help us. He's almost as recondite as the Mirror's leader. We're on our own out here, grasping at straws. Agnes gave up and left with her family yesterday, despite the cold."

She shook her head again, suddenly looking as exhausted as Arthur felt. "If ye jist opened yer eyes ye could save the world, Arthur."

She gave the chains at her feet another glance and turned to walk away, flexing her cramped fist. For the first time, Arthur thought she looked utterly defeated. "Do what ye want with 'em. I cannae learn anything from 'em anyway."

Arthur watched her go, wondering if he should follow or not. He watched until she was out of sight before looking down at the chains. Lying broken in the dirt they looked so small and harmless.

He raised his foot and stomped down on them as hard as he could, again and again until the weakened metal was bent and the crystals were cracked. Then he slowly bent, picked up the pieces and carried them to a dilapidated, dry well he had seen on the edge of the village. He dropped them in and watched them fall into the darkness where he knew no one would ever find them, then leaned wearily against the crumbling stone and blinked spots from his eyes.

"Sire?"

Arthur didn't know how long he had been standing there when he lifted his head to respond to the voice. Alymere stood a few feet away, looking concerned.

Arthur straightened and pushed himself away from the well. He wasn't sure if he was swaying or his vision was swimming, but he hoped it was the latter. He didn't want to look weak in front of one of his knights. "Report." He said emotionlessly, knowing that Alymere would have just returned from his patrol with Percival.

"We spotted a soldier again, only an hour north of here. Again, he just watched us before vanishing. It seems like..."

"Like they're waiting for something." Arthur finished for him, wishing that, just once, they could get a damn break. But it looked like that wasn't going to happen, so he just nodded and started to walk back to Gail's house. He had left Merlin alone too long.

"We need to leave." He stated without looking back. "As soon as possible. Find Percival and ready our supplies." Merlin wasn't ready. Not physically or mentally. But Arthur suddenly had a horrible feeling that if they stayed here any longer, he'd be dead and never get the chance. They could buy a cart from the villagers. Merlin wouldn't have to ride. It would still be hard on him, but anything would be better than staying in this dying village with the enemy lurking just out of sight.

When he arrived at Gail's door he glanced back to see that Alymere had already vanished. He glanced up at the sky and realized with a belated jolt of surprise that the sun had fully risen without his noticing.

If the Mirror _did_ attack, he probably wouldn't notice that either. Not until one of his people was gutted in front of him.

He blinked away the spots in his vision again and quietly opened the door. He was unsurprised to see that Gwaine had returned and was sitting at the table telling his usual ridiculous stories to Merlin. He glanced up at Arthur when he entered and gave him a nod in greeting, but didn't break the story. Arthur only listened to a couple of words before tuning it out and looking at Merlin, who he hadn't expected to be awake yet.

Merlin's back was pressed against the wall and his eyes darted about the room, as was the new normal. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and his left hand was fisted in the fabric of his pants, indicating he was either in great pain or had just awoken from a nightmare. Or both. Probably both.

Merlin's darting eyes settled on him almost instantly and his brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" He rasped. Gwaine shut up.

"Nothing." Arthur said a little too quickly.

Merlin's eyebrows raised slightly.

"Fine, nothing new."

"When was the last time you slept?"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. For someone stuck in his own head, he was very perceptive. "Why in the blazes are you worried about _me_?" He asked wearily, his tone a bit harsher than he had intended. In reality, he was glad Merlin was fussing a bit. It made him sound more like his old self.

"You're limping. And listing. When was the last time you _ate_?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Now you can't put together a sentence."

"I'm fine, Merlin. I was just...thinking."

Merlin flinched almost imperceptibly, his eyes darting furtively to the corner of the room. Arthur followed his gaze, knowing that he would find nothing. He let out a silent sigh and moved further into the room to drop into a chair and watch Merlin as he glanced around the room at people only he could see. He wondered, yet again, how much of the man he knew was still in there and how much had been ripped away and smothered by torture and hallucinations.

For the first time, he wondered if bringing him home to Camelot was truly the best course of action. Something that had happened made him dread the thought─Arthur had felt that for himself when he connected the bridge. And besides that, he was sure Gaius's heart would break if he saw his ward like this, and he didn't know if he could stomach watching that again.

"Stop looking at me like that." Merlin rasped softly, breaking Arthur from his thoughts.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm going to disappear. You're going to make me believe it, too."

"Sorry." Arthur muttered like a scolded child, making Gwaine laugh silently from across the room.

Merlin suddenly frowned and glanced around himself, searching for something. He settled on a spoon, which he immediately scooped up and sent spinning at Arthur's head.

For some reason Arthur couldn't figure out, he made no move to catch the projectile. The only thought that passed through his head before the spoon hit it was that, for a man that sometimes couldn't touch a jar eight inches from him without missing, Merlin had impeccable long-distance aim.

"Ow!" Arthur said, rubbing his head and glaring at the spoon as it landed on the floor. "Merlin!"

"Sorry." Merlin said, a brief hint of a relieved smile crossing over his lips. "Just─"

"Checking, I know." Arthur interrupted, glancing over at Gwaine, who looked half-way between confused and amused. "We need to find you something softer."

"Like a pewter goblet." Merlin suggested dully.

Arthur stared at him for a moment, wondering if Merlin had just cracked a _joke_. Another glance at Gwaine confirmed at the knight was just as surprised, but obviously very happy with it.

"I'm sure we can find you something in our luggage." Gwaine said brightly.

 _Aw, hell, they're at it again._ Arthur thought, fondly rather than irritably. He was exhausted, sore, and felt like his enemies lurked in the shadows, just out of sight, but despite all of that, for the first time in months he thought that maybe he was actually _happy._

"Just make sure i─" Merlin's mouth snapped shut abruptly when the door next to Arthur swung open and the hungover villager he had seen with Gail stepped inside, his arm clutched to his side and his face screwed up in pain.

He squinted around the house as if looking for someone. "Gail? Have ye got any...Wait, Gail's not 'ere..."

The smell of ale hit Arthur's nose and he sprung out of the chair with speed and agility he hadn't known he would be able to manage. The man took a startled step back and Arthur followed him, shoving him roughly out the door and slamming it shut. He heard a muffled thump and a confused yelp from the other side and knew the poor man had probably fallen on his ass, but he didn't have time to feel guilty at how he had treated a man who had probably just wanted something for his sore shoulder.

"Arthur!" Gwaine asked, sounding shocked. "Wh─"

A painful-sounding thud interrupted his protests and both men spun around to see Merlin on the floor, white as the sheets he was tangled in and scrambling backwards. His back hit the wall and he pressed himself into the corner with a muffled cry of pain. He drew his knees stiffly to his chest and shielded his face with his left arm.

"Oh," Gwaine breathed.

Arthur crossed the room quickly but pulled up a few feet short when Merlin curled tighter into himself. He could hear choking sounds and knew that Merlin was struggling to breathe.

Arthur sank to the floor in front of him, but stayed back. "Merlin, it's okay." He began haltingly.

Merlin's hand clenched in his hair and he rocked back and forth, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "S-s-stop, please." He rasped, his voice barely audible. "I d-don't want...St-top _touching me_."

"Listen to me, Merlin. You're safe." Arthur said firmly, but Merlin didn't seem to hear.

A low, desperate keening came from Merlin's throat and sent chills down Arthur's spine. Just before Arthur was about to say something else, Merlin flinched violently into the wall, hitting his head against it with a solid _thump_. To Arthur's horror, Merlin leaned forward a few inches and struck the back of his head against the wall again, then again and again and again, spastically repeating the action and moaning under his breath.

" _Nonononononono..._ "

"Merlin!" Gwaine shouted, lunging forward to help Arthur try to pull Merlin away from the wall.

Arthur put a hand on Merlin's good shoulder, but before he could pull him back Merlin lashed out, catching Arthur's chin with a wild left hook fueled by panic that sent him reeling into the wall himself.

Merlin screamed.

Arthur pushed himself off of the wall and scrambled to think of a way to get Merlin away from the wall without sending him further into his mind.

Merlin clutched at his broken shoulder and, still screaming, threw his head back into the wall even harder. Tears ran down his face and, a second later, blood ran down the wall.

Arthur reached out again to grab Merlin away from the wall but Gwaine got there first and caught his wrist, simultaneously dropping a pillow behind Merlin's head. The fabric was quickly stained with red splotches but after several more attempts at bashing his head in, Merlin slowed and buried his face in his knees, shaking with sobs of pain and despair.

"Pl-lease, just..." He begged as he rocked back and forth, blood trickling from the back of his head to his temples and soaking into the fabric of his pants. "Ju-ust kill me. Just kill me."

Arthur heard Gwaine take a step back, but he himself was momentarily frozen. He had thought what he had seen a moment before was a fit of mindless panic, that Merlin hadn't realized what he was doing, but maybe it was something more. Maybe, after being taken back to the cave by the smell of alcohol, he had just attempted to kill himself by _smashing his head into the wall_.

"Don't be an idiot." Arthur blurted before he could stop himself. "We're not going to kill you, Merlin. You're free now, and we're going home soon. Gaius is waiting for you."

"Can't go home, n-not anym-more. Too late." Merlin keened, squeezing his eyes shut and rocking faster. Arthur cringed when Merlin's shoulder struck the wall, but Merlin didn't stop rocking. "He'll hate me, hate himself. I can't make him─" He cut off abruptly and shook his head.

"Who will hate you?" Gwaine asked softly.

"Arthur. I r-ruined everything." Merlin moaned dejectedly.

Gwaine shot Arthur a look of utter bewilderment, and Arthur shrugged helplessly as Merlin rocked in the corner. His fingers clenched in his hair again and Arthur thought he heard some of it rip. Blood welled up from his scalp and gathered in his fingernails.

"Hey, hey, stop that." Arthur said, reaching out to untangle his fingers but halting at the last second. "Why would I hate you, Merlin? You're a lousy servant, but you're not _that_ bad. C'mon, calm down."

Merlin raised his head slightly. "A-arthur?"

"Yeah, Merlin."

"You look like shit."

"Pot. Kettle."

Merlin sat up a little straighter, then turned to the side and vomited the disturbingly meager contents of his stomach onto the floor. When he started to slide down the wall towards the puddle Arthur reached out again and caught his shoulder.

Merlin immediately jerked upright, grabbed Arthur's wrist and shoved him away, his breath coming quickly. He tried to force himself to breathe shallowly and his face creased in pain from the extra movement in his chest and shoulder when he couldn't. "D-don't touch..."

Arthur raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and sat back against the wall a few feet back as Merlin watched him suspiciously. Merlin pressed himself further into the corner and pressed one ear into the pillow and the other into his hand.

"Tell me what's going on, Merlin." Arthur pleaded.

"They won't stop." Merlin ground out, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. "I can't make them stop, not this time. They're too _loud_ and they're touching me."

Arthur shifted closer, but still didn't touch. "Listen to me. They're not real. They're not here. They're just in your head and you can only hear them because you're thinking about them. Think about something else."

Merlin pressed his face into his knees again and wrapped his arm protectively over his head. "I can't."

"You have to try. Just focus on something else."

Merlin mumbled something into his knees that Arthur couldn't hear, but the desperate, pleading tone was unmistakable.

"What?"

"Please." Merlin said louder, his breath ragged. "Keep talking. Anything, it drowns them out."

He nodded, and with only a brief moment's hesitation, he started talking. He told random, babbling stories that had nothing to do with magic, Camelot or anything else he thought might agitate Merlin. As the minutes, then hours passed and his rambling became more and more nonsensical Merlin's rocking slowed and his breath evened out. Arthur understood now why Gwaine had been talking so much when he had entered before.

Arthur lost track of how long the trio sat in those four walls, but it was long enough for his legs to fall asleep and his voice to grow rough. He even forgot what he was saying after a while; all the words began to blend together. Gwaine got up and left at one point, and Arthur heard hushed voices from outside the door, but he was back in minutes to reclaim his seat on the edge of an empty cot.

Arthur was too tired to notice when Merlin fell asleep and began to tip forward, but luckily Gwaine wasn't. The knight stepped forward and caught Merlin, scooping him up like a child and taking him back to his bed.

Arthur's gravely voice petered to a halt and he rested his head back against the wall, staring blankly as Gwaine put Merlin down and returned to him.

"Sire." Arthur blinked sluggishly and looked up at Gwaine's concerned face.

"'Waine." He mumbled. "'Er's Merlin?"

"Sleeping. Which you should also be doing." He held his hand out to help Arthur up.

He eyed the hand blearily for a few seconds before taking it and hauling himself to unsteady feet. "I'm fine. Can't _sleep_ , gotta leave."

He swayed a little, but only a little, so why was he suddenly falling?

Gwaine caught him before his knees touched the floor and pulled him back up. "We can wait another day. When _was_ the last time you slept?"

"Don' 'member." Arthur slurred as Gwaine dragged him to bed.

"You'd better not make a habit of this. I'm a knight, not a nursemaid."

Arthur collapsed onto the bed and patted Gwaine on the arm. "You'd make a great nurshemaid...Children...love you."

"But their parents don't. Go to sleep, Arthur."

His eyes drifted shut and he felt Gwaine tugging at one of his boots. With the last of his energy he waved him off. "Leave 'em. Ol' man said so..."

* * *

Arthur blinked sleepily in the dark. His stomach hurt so much he felt like he might puke, but he knew there was nothing in there to bring back up. He blinked again, wishing his eyelids didn't feel so heavy and sticky.

Wait, dark? It had barely been noon a minute ago. He sat up too quickly and pressed a hand to his head, willing the world to stop spinning for a minute. When it did, he leaned over and pulled aside one of the curtains to confirm that it was indeed dark out. Odd. He hadn't even noticed falling asleep, and he still felt so worn out he almost didn't believe that he had, despite the clear proof.

He looked around the room as his eyes adjusted to the dark. Merlin was sleeping─peacefully, for once─on the cot next to his. Arthur could see a fresh white bandage wrapped around his head and wondered if Gwaine had put it there or if Gail had snuck back in while he was asleep. Neither party was currently present in the room, and Arthur wondered where they had gotten to. Gail hadn't slept in her own home for days, and he had never seen Callum do so.

 _That's probably my fault_ , Arthur thought absently. He felt like maybe he should feel guilty about this, but he didn't.

He swung his legs over the side of the cot and rubbed at his temples to ease the throbbing behind them for a moment before standing and heading for the door. His stomach groaned so loudly he cast a quick glance at Merlin to make sure he hadn't woken, then backpedaled to the table to grab a piece of stale bread and cram it into his mouth.

With silent steps he crossed the rest of the room and exited the house, closing the door softly behind him.

It didn't take him long to relocate Gwaine. The knight was sitting a mere twenty feet away from the physician's house with his back against the blacksmith's. One leg was stretched out before him, the other drawn up so the knee was almost touching his chest. His right elbow rested on his knee and his hand dangled loosely towards the ground. His hand clutched a leather skin that he slowly spun in circles.

As Arthur got closer he could smell mead and was surprised for a moment. Gwaine didn't look up, but Arthur knew he had heard him, so he sat down beside him in the dirt without announcing his presence.

"I thought you'd sleep all night." Gwaine muttered. "Looked half dead."

"Still feel it." Arthur responded quietly, his voice still hoarse. He glanced down at the mead in Gwaine's hand before staring straight ahead at Gail's house. "I thought you quit drinking that stuff."

Gwaine lifted the skin slightly and shook his head. "Nah, I was just saving it. Drink is meant for celebration, an' I didn't see much to be celebrating lately. It used to be so easy, you know? Was kinda hoping Merlin would help me drink it when we found 'im." He laughed bitterly. "Well, _that_ isn't gonna happen, is it?"

Arthur nodded slowly. "So, what is this? You cannot be celebrating after the day we've had."

"No. This...This is just escape." Gwaine shook his head despondently. "I really am just a drunken fool, aren't I? I was hoping...I thought he was getting better. I thought I could see some of him left in there. Sure, he's been having nightmares, but he's not the only one.

"But _that_?" Gwaine nodded his head toward the house. " _That_ wasn't Merlin. He's changed too much. But, hey, maybe I never..."

He trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't know what I'm waiting for anymore."

"We've all changed, Gwaine." Arthur said quietly. "Hell, maybe Merlin's always had this side of him and we've just never seen it. God knows he's been hiding enough other things. I didn't even know he knew his father. I thought he left, or died before he was born. Why would he hide something like that?"

"His father didn't leave, he was banished.."

Arthur's head snapped up and turned to stare at Gwaine. "What?"

Gwaine shrugged. "I didn't know it was a secret. He told me shortly after we met. He said his father served his king, but his king turned on him. He had to leave his family for years."

"Why would he...?"

"Tell me and not you?" Gwaine smiled slightly. "I suppose he related to my story more than yours. You still had your father, and he had recently lost his."

Arthur leaned his head back against the wall and tried to remember any time before that date when Merlin could have met, and lost his father without Arthur even noticing. He couldn't think of any.

"Huh."

"It seemed odd to me at the time that he would want to serve you after what happened with his father."

Arthur snorted. "He didn't, not at first. The first time we met...well, he called me an ass, I called him an idiot. One thing led to another, he tried to punch me in the face and I threw him in the dungeon."

Gwaine blinked a few times before laughing loudly. "You're kidding me."

Arthur grinned and shook his head, reliving the memory. "No. He spent some time getting acquainted with the stocks and went on his way. I figured that was the last I'd be seeing of him, but we met again later that same day in the village. He called me an ass again. And a prat, this time knowing full-well I was the crown prince."

Gwaine laughed again. "And what did the crown prince do about that?"

"Tossed him a mace and chased him through the market, of course. We made a right mess of things. He was an oaf with that thing, but he never backed down. I could have had him flogged and he knew it, but the idiot still went for it. He even _taunted_ me. Asked me if I wanted to give up seconds before I beat him with a broom."

"How did you manage to get him as your servant after all that?"

"A witch tried to kill me the next day. Merlin pulled me out of the way of a knife. Saved my life. You should have seen his face when, as a reward, my father gave him the position. He couldn't very well refuse the king. We fought for weeks. I was trying to get him to quit, but he wouldn't back down from that either. I think he was trying to get me to fire him, he irritated me so much, but I wasn't going to let myself lose that easily.

"After that, well, one thing led to another and...here we are." Arthur trailed off with a sigh, once again looking to the physician's door.

"Aye." Gwaine muttered, swinging his mead again. "Here. Merlin's gone mad, we're trapped on the wrong side of the mountains in a dying land, and stalked by sadistic cultists we can't hope to fight by ourselves. Sound about right?"

Arthur shrugged. "More or less..."

Gwaine growled under his breath and hurled the skin away from him. It lay on its side in the dirt, the liquid slowly burbling out and soaking into the ground. "Never was much for drowning my problems. It's not over yet."

Arthur stood, dusted himself off and offered Gwaine a hand up. "No, it isn't. We will be heading home before the week is out."

Gwaine accepted it and stood on barely unsteady legs. "But Merlin─"

"Isn't safe here, nor is he healing any further. He needs Gaius. And _you_ need sleep."

Gwaine nodded and clapped Arthur on the shoulder. "Right. In the barn."

Arthur wrinkled his nose. "Good idea."

Gwaine nodded again before turning and walking away, leaving Arthur to walk the opposite direction back to the house, where, feeling oddly peaceful, he too collapsed into another deep sleep...with his boots still on.


	19. Chapter XVIII

**I would just like to throw out a reminder for all you lovely people that this story is, in fact, rated M.**

 **That is all.**

 **Thanks for reading.**

* * *

 **Chapter XVIII**

 _A knee pressed into the small of his back, a hand shoved his head down, and a thumb gently caressed a tally mark on his shoulder. The first of many, still stinging with fresh pain. He had already been maimed beyond repair, but that single little cut hurt him worse by far. He felt sullied now, dirty and marked as someone else's._

 _The thumb dug into the cut and he nearly bit clean through his lip to stop from crying out. He could hear the wet squishing sounds and would have been sick if he had had anything to eat in the last few days._

I will not scream, I will not scream, I will not scream...

 _The thumb dug in deeper, tearing through muscle and probing against bone. He struggled desperately, and despite his previous commitment he was unable to stop a high moan of pain when the swollen muscles tore on the shattered bones in his opposite shoulder. His attacker laughed in triumph, gripped his hair and lifted his head only to slam it back against the stone. The skin above his eye split and blood clouded his vision, but it didn't matter, because a second later the action was repeated, his nose was broken and everything went blissfully black._

" _We goin' to 'ave a lot of fun together, ye an' I."_

Arthur's eyes snapped open and for just a second he was surprised to see the dusty wooden rafters that had greeted him every morning for weeks. He blinked a couple of times, trying to make sense of the dream even as it slipped from his memory. He was never sure, after waking up, whether the dreams were actually Merlin's memories or his own nightmares born of his memories of Merlin's...

He shook his head and sat up, giving up on confusing himself further. It didn't make any difference. He had already known that Merlin had gone through such things, and what was done was done. A glance out the window told him that he had slept through the entire night and it was now midmorning. He definitely felt better rested than he had before, but his stomach still rumbled with hunger.

Merlin was already awake, sitting at the table and...scribbling away at it with a burnt stick from the fireplace. Arthur watched him for a moment in confusion, then shrugged to himself. Merlin seemed relaxed─a rare thing, nowadays─and any damage done to the table could be easily scrubbed away. Arthur wondered what he was writing or drawing, but made no move to investigate and simply enjoyed the calm. Merlin seemed to be totally oblivious to the fact that he had awoken.

His mind wandered back to his false epiphany from the previous morning and he was surprised at how uneasy he felt. It wasn't true. It had just been delirium fueled by acute exhaustion and stress, so why did it have him so unsettled to think about?

"What number am I thinking of?" Merlin asked without lifting his head. _Okay, maybe not_ totally _oblivious_.

"Uh...seventeen." Arthur answered cluelessly. He was starting to become accustomed to Merlin's odd new habits and found that it was usually best to just go with it when a new one showed up.

Merlin shook his head and Arthur knew that he had, unsurprisingly, gotten it wrong.

"So, what was that for?" Arthur questioned.

"I was wondering why you were being so quiet. Either you are a hallucination, in which case you should have known the number, or you're thinking about something." Merlin raised his head to look at Arthur and his charcoal stilled.

Arthur shook his head in amusement. "Me _thinking_ is not that rare of an occurrence, _Mer_ lin. Certainly not enough for you to assume you're hallucinating when it happens."

"Pretty sure it's rarer than me hallucinating." Merlin responded, and Arthur resisted the urge to throw something at his head. There was a sack of potatoes almost within reach...

"So," Merlin continued, getting back to his scribbles. "What were you thinking about?"

He knew Merlin was sick of lies, so he answered truthfully. "Magic."

The charcoal stick snapped in Merlin's clenched hand and his entire body froze.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked, sitting up straighter and wondering if maybe this was another sore subject with Merlin now. It wouldn't be surprising─after all, the man had been tortured for months at the hands of sorcery. If anyone had reason to hate magic, it was Merlin.

"Nothing." Merlin answered too quickly, sounding...guilty? Arthur again remembered his previous thoughts and pushed them away. It was impossible.

Merlin stiffened even more and furiously scrubbed at his drawing with his hand, smearing the soot and turning his hand black.

"Have you eaten anything?" Arthur asked, suddenly finding himself desperate to change the subject.

Merlin nodded and visibly relaxed. "Alymere was here this morning. He made porridge." He pointed to a pot that hung over the glowing coals in the fireplace.

Arthur grimaced and decided he wasn't hungry, after all. Alymere's porridge was the talk of the town back at Camelot, and the butt of many jokes. Some said the castle was, in fact, built from the stuff.

"And then I fixed it." Merlin continued, and Arthur grinned.

"Alright then. Teach him a thing or two?"

Merlin hummed in agreement and fiddled with one of the stubs of charcoal as Arthur stood up and walked to peer into the pot. Sure enough, inside was plenty of thick, perfectly cooked porridge, darkened with some spice Arthur couldn't name. He picked up the wooden spoon and poked at it experimentally.

"What's in it?"

"Something I found under the bed. Smelled good."

Arthur looked at Merlin, who was still looking at the sooty table. "Sounds yummy..."

Merlin looked up and raised an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of his mentor. "Have I ever poisoned you before?"

Arthur turned back to the pot to hide his smile. Merlin may be writing on the table like a madman, but this was the closest to normal he had felt in months. He didn't care what Gwaine said; Merlin was still in there somewhere.

"Well, there was the rat."

"That was me saving you from certain death by starvation." Merlin argued, pointing one end of the broken stick at him accusatively.

There was a sudden shout of alarm from outside, followed by a shrill scream. Arthur dropped the spoon back into the pot, his gaze immediately going to where he had left Excalibur leaning against the wall by his cot.

"Ungrateful prat." Merlin muttered with a glare, apparently oblivious to the sounds outside. " _You're_ the one always trying to poison yourself. Remember the Labyrinth? Nimueh? Wait, no, that one was me..."

Arthur had only made it two steps towards his sword when all hell broke loose.

The door flew open with a bang and two armed men, dressed all in black with the Mirror's sigil emblazoned proudly on their cloaks entered, blocking Arthur's path to his sword. Merlin jumped at the sound and glanced over at the men, but quickly looked back at the table and began studiously ignoring them. Arthur only spared him a glance, but he recognized his expression. He had seen it many times over the past few days and realized that he thought the men were just another hallucination.

The men charged Arthur and he backpedalled, reached behind him, grabbed the hot pot of porridge off of its hook and flung the whole thing at the lead soldier's face. His aim was true and the man fell to the ground, screaming and clawing at his burnt eyes. He heard a chair fall to the floor with a clatter and knew that Merlin must have realized that their attackers were real, but Arthur didn't look away from the remaining soldier to check on his friend.

He ducked a swinging sword and had to take a quick step back to avoid a thrust, wishing desperately that he had a weapon to defend himself with. His right heel felt very warm all of a sudden and he realized that he was standing in the burning logs.

 _Boots_.

He barely ducked out of the way of another strike by stepping to the side and out of the fireplace, nearly tripping over a log and accidentally kicking it out of the fire. He felt the blade catch on his sleeve and heard it tear, but felt no pain and knew it hadn't cut his skin.

Before the soldier could strike again Arthur stepped forward, grabbed the soldier's wrist with his left hand and drove his right fist into the man's elbow. He grunted as pain lanced through his abused hand, but it was well worth it to hear the joint pop out of place and the soldier's sword clatter to the ground, even though the enchanted man didn't react to the pain.

" _You're going to need it soon."_

 _Damn it_. The old man was right.

Arthur spotted flames from the burning log begin to eat away at a basket of herbs and cursed his clumsiness and foul luck. The basket sat beside the crate of dry kindling and it wouldn't be long before the whole lot was alight.

The soldier took advantage of Arthur's slight distraction and smashed his head into Arthur's, sending him reeling back into the stone wall of the chimney. The back of his head met stone and he was stunned for just long enough for the soldier to lay into his unprotected stomach with his fist. His tender, half-healed ribs groaned at the impact and he thought he felt one of them crack again.

Arthur doubled over, winded, only to have a knee slam into his face and knock him to the ground. Only a moment later a booted foot struck him in the chest, knocking the breath out of him again.

Gasping, he desperately reached for the fallen sword, but before he could reach it the soldier cried out in surprise and fell to his knees, blood pooling under him from a new stab wound in his knee. A second later the tip of a bloodied sword protruded from his neck. Arthur felt drops of blood spray onto his shirt.

The sword was withdrawn and Arthur had to scramble out of the way as the body crashed to the floor.

Merlin stood behind the body, Excalibur clutched tightly in his left hand, its bloodied tip resting on the floor. Arthur briefly wondered why he had stabbed the man in the leg and not gone for a fatal blow from the start, but then he realized that Merlin just didn't have the strength to lift the sword that high.

Arthur stepped over the fallen enemy and took his sword from Merlin's shaking hand. Merlin's eyes were lowered, and when he spoke his voice shook.

"Please tell me I didn't just kill one of the knights."

"Not one of ours." Arthur answered quickly, eyes darting to the wall that was now nearly engulfed in flames. Smoke stung at his eyes and clawed in his throat. He sheathed his sword, took hold of Merlin's elbow and tugged him towards the door. "We need to go."

Merlin dug in his heels. "No, I can't─"

"You have to!" Arthur snapped as a terrified scream was heard through the open door. His men were out there, possibly dying, and he itched to help them. "This place is _burning_ , Merlin. We have to get out."

Merlin refused to look at the door and continued to shy away from it desperately.

"What is it?" Arthur demanded, his patience─and time─running short. "Why won't you go outside?"

"I can't─"

"Yes, you can." Arthur argued.

"But...I just..." Merlin stammered, breath uneven and eyes wet. "I can't go back. I _can't_."

"Merlin, you're free and _on my life_ you will stay that way." Arthur swore vehemently. " You will not go back to that place. They will _not_ have you."

Merlin shook his head. "What if they still do? If I'm just insane and imagining all of this?"

Arthur couldn't help it─he groaned impatiently. He had thought they'd already gotten past this.

Merlin was shaking his head and pressing his hand to his shoulder. "I never wanted to burn, but I would rather die in any manner than step out that door into a cave."

Arthur didn't have a chance to reply before there was a cracking sound from behind them. A burnt beam fell from the nearly engulfed ceiling and crashed into the burning table. Arthur wondered briefly why the house was burning so fast and what the hell it was _made of_ , but he had more pressing things to worry about.

Arthur grabbed Merlin's good shoulder and tried to look the petrified man in the eye. Merlin's eyes darted around the flaming room. "I promise you, the world is out there. This is all real."

Merlin shook his head and Arthur tightened his grip on his shoulder. "Look at me, Merlin."

Merlin finally listened and his eyes met Arthur's.

"We can go home."

"I can't." Merlin's voice was so quiet Arthur couldn't hear it over the crackling of dry, burning wood, but he knew what his friend had said anyway. Even if he had said nothing Arthur couldn't have missed the apology in his eyes.

The smoke was beginning to choke them and Arthur knew that soon he would not have the strength to get himself out, much less Merlin, so he grabbed hold of Merlin's left wrist and started to simply haul him towards the door. "I will not leave you here." He said with a rough cough.

Merlin jerked back with such ferocity it nearly took Arthur off of his feet and he feared Merlin's too-thin wrist would snap. He remembered all too clearly what Gail had said about his other wrist and one look into Merlin's eyes told him he would do it.

Arthur blinked smoke from his eyes and held fast. "Merlin, _please_."

Merlin just pulled harder, shaking his head and shutting his eyes tightly in denial. His face was screwed up in pain from the jolting motions his struggle was sending through his shoulder. Arthur pulled back desperately, only to abruptly release Merlin's arm in horror when he felt something give.

Merlin hit the floor without a sound and wasted no time in scrambling backwards, pushing himself across the ground with his feet until his back hit the wall where he rocked back and forth, both arms clutched protectively to his chest. Arthur knew he must be in absolute agony, but still he made no sound, even as the smoke filled their lungs and flames licked towards his feet.

Arthur's ribs ached, his eyes stung and his head swam. He knew if he stayed another minute he would pass out and they would both burn to death. There was neither the time nor the energy to wrestle Merlin out the door.

He frantically stumbled towards the table, throat closing with guilt at what he was about to do. He snatched up the vial of pain-killing sedative Gail had left for Merlin in case he ever changed his mind. Arthur knew he would never have done so; he had felt Merlin's pure terror at the idea. He knew that keeping his mind as clear as possible took precedence over relief from the pain.

He _knew_ how much this would hurt him, and wondered if this was it. If _this_ was the one thing even Merlin could never forgive him for.

There were tears in Arthur's eyes when he returned to Merlin's side and dropped to his knees beside him, paying no mind to the flames that singed his elbow. "I'm sorry, Merlin." He gasped before quickly holding Merlin's head still, pinching his nose shut and forcing the potion down his throat even as he struggled desperately. Merlin's arm flailed uselessly against Arthur and his head struck the wall. Arthur pushed his head back harder to restrict his movement. "I'm so, so sorry."

Merlin's accusing gaze met his as Arthur pressed his hand over his mouth and nose, forcing him to swallow the potion that terrified him so. The look of panic, of betrayal, cut Arthur to the core.

Black tears that even Arthur would not bother to deny were from anything but smoke ran freely down his face as Merlin's struggles became weaker and a haze settled over his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He whispered again before abruptly pulling Merlin over his shoulders and staggering to his feet and back across the room to the door, choking out unheard apologies all the while.

He felt sick as he crossed the threshold with his limp friend, wishing that Merlin had had the chance to overcome his fear on his own terms and hating the soldiers for taking what surely would have been a triumphant moment from him had he been allowed to walk out the door of his own free will, rather than being betrayed and brutalized by one who was supposed to protect. Someone he had trusted. He hated them for forcing him to do something he would never forgive himself for.

He stumbled the last few steps, landing on his knees in the dirt outside and doubled over. Hacking coughs wracked his body and he felt a sick sort of gratitude that Merlin was unconscious and the motions wouldn't pain him further.

He felt someone tugging on Merlin, trying to take him from him and he lashed out with his fist.

"Oi! Settle down, Princess."

Arthur relaxed marginally and let Gwaine pull Merlin from his shoulders as he doubled over into another coughing fit. He heard Gwaine swear and a second later a cloak was draped around him and hands were patting it against his arm, hard.

"Wha─?" He managed between gasps.

"Oh nothing, you were just _on fire_." Gwaine said without missing a beat. "What's wrong with Merlin? Smoke?"

"Drugged." Arthur croaked, feeling the weight of his guilt multiply with that single word until it felt like it was dragging him down into the dirt beneath his knees.

"Say what now?" Gwaine sounded incredulous. "I thought he wouldn't─Arthur! His elbow!"

Arthur rubbed the tears from his eyes with his sleeve and gathered the courage to look at the friend he had betrayed. The odd angle and strange lumpiness of Merlin's elbow nearly made him sick, even though he knew how easy it was to fix a dislocated elbow. He had had them himself and it certainly wasn't a serious injury. Just the knowledge that _he_ had caused it was enough.

"He wouldn't come out." He rasped, hacking up more soot.

"Wait, _you_ did this?" Gwaine demanded angrily, and Arthur could only nod. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Had to...get him out. Wasn't going to...let him burn...Tried to stay."

"There had to have been─shit, we have company."

Gwaine grabbed Arthur around the arm and dragged him roughly to his feet, only to stoop again and throw Merlin as carefully as he could over his shoulder. He drew his sword with his free arm and Arthur did the same, still coughing as three soldiers approached them.

"I'll hold them off." Arthur rasped quietly. "Make for the trees on the south side."

"Run from a fight?" Gwaine sounded offended. "I think we can take three men, Sire."

Arthur nodded to two more men who had spotted them and were running towards them. "Five. Get Merlin to safety and stay with him."

He swiped at his watering eyes one last time and waved Gaine away. "We don't have time to fight about this. Go!"

Gwaine hesitated for a moment, then nodded and began to jog away as Arthur moved, only slightly unsteadily, to intercept the soldiers. "Good luck."

One of the soldiers tried to make it past him to Gwaine, but with a shout of fury and a mighty swing Arthur cut his legs from under him and let him drop in helpless, bloodied confusion.

Another man muttered a foreign word and tossed a spell at Arthur with a lackadaisical air, despite his fellow soldier bleeding out a mere metre from his feet. A silvery blue light flew towards Arthur and he spun away, narrowly dodging the attack. The light brushed against his shoulder, sending a stinging tingle through his arm.

The sorcerer laughed, as though he was a delinquent boy toying with a stray puppy he had found on the streets and not a renowned warrior.

A rage such as he had never felt before flooded through him, narrowing his senses to the men─nay, _beasts_ ─before him. How dare they strut around, taking what they had no right to without respect or care for even their own brothers. How _dare_ they come to his lands, attack him and his own. How dare they swoop in with blades and stolen magic to rip a hole in his heart and drag Merlin's through hell. How dare they desecrate the land for their own selfish lust for power. How dare _they_ , glorified bandits and fanatics, force him, previously a man of honor, to betray his friend's mind and trust.

They had slaughtered his men, broken his servant, and threatened his kingdom. And now, just when things were beginning to scab over, they return with fire and blood for another go. And they were _laughing_.

 _How dare they_.

Before either of them knew what had happened, Excalibur was embedded hilt-deep in the sorcerer's gut. His dark eyes flickered gold as he attempted to choke out a spell and his fingertips sparked, but whatever magic he had been planning to use returned tiredly to the earth with his final breath.

Arthur threw the corpse to the ground and with a savagery he had never before entertained, he kicked it in the head as he stepped over it and slashed at the next man to get in his way. Blood flew in an arc from his blade, spattering himself and his foe as the shocked man stumbled back and caught Arthur's blade with his own. Arthur wasted no time in throwing it aside and running him through as he had with his companion.

He heard the unmistakable sound of a blade whistling through the air and sidestepped to avoid it before turning on his heel and slashing his sword across another soldier's throat and spraying his blood upon his own face without so much as a flinch. Only a second later he was locked in battle with a fresh opponent.

He cut them down one by one with vicious efficacy, giving no heed to the gore that soaked his tunic and clotted in his hair. The remorse for the loss of life he would have felt in any other battle was drowned out by the memory of Merlin's scars, of Sir Kay's cries of grief and Hunith's tears. Not a one of them deserved life after what they had done, and if he had to play God to declare it, so be it.

No, there would be no guilt wasted on these beasts.

Rather than venting his anger, the insatiable violence was like oil on a bonfire and before he had time to think about what had happened he stood alone, coated in blood and ash with eight bodies at his feet. Possibly nine. Some were in a state that made it impossible to count. He wasn't sure when the extra four had joined him, but he didn't much care, either.

He forced himself to close his eyes and take several calming breaths to slow his rabbiting heart. He struggled to get a hold on his fury, not to destroy it, but to save it for a more opportune time. It took a moment, but he managed it, and when he opened his eyes he got his first chance to assess the situation around him.

The village was in chaos. Gail's was not the only house set alight, and villagers ran through the streets to escape the soldiers that systematically searched and destroyed. Horses stampeded from the burning barn, eyes white with terror.

Soldiers swarmed the streets, some fighting with villagers, but Arthur couldn't see any of his knights yet. Most of the villagers were ignored altogether, which Arthur was glad of. The soldiers were clearly just here for him and his party, and only harmed the brave few who attempted to fight back.

He spotted three of the animals kick down a door and drag a woman out before throwing her on the ground outside. She hurled curses at them as they ransacked her home until one of them turned back to strike her across the face and knock her back down.

Arthur felt that fury rise up again and knew he would not forgive himself for every one of these people he let free. He did not make a habit of seeking out a fight, especially one where he was outnumbered and without allies, but he felt that this was a special case. Besides, if he could take down nine men and come out unscathed, surely he could take three more?

And if he was feeling a touch suicidal in that moment, no one but himself would ever know.

He had only made it two steps before a sudden pain in his side took him to his knees. He reached to cover the area with his left hand, only to feel the fabric of his tunic scrape against raw, burnt skin on his bicep. His left side was slick with blood he now realized was not only from his enemies, and he noticed a second later that blood trickled from a cut on his thigh as well.

 _Perhaps not quite so unscathed..._

In the midst of battle, or perhaps it was his rage that had done it, he had no more felt the wounds than he had noticed the additional four soldiers until it was done. The realization irritated him more than anything else, and now he struggled through his pain and exhaustion to get back to his feet.

"Arthur!"

Arthur's head whipped around at the sound of his name, shouted over the sounds of screams and fire. Percival, sword bloodied, was jogging towards him. For just a moment, Arthur thought the knight looked almost... _afraid_ of him.

"Where are the others?" Arthur demanded with a voice almost as rough as Merlin's.

"I haven't seen Alymere yet, but Gwaine passed me on his way to the treeline. He had nearly made it last I saw of him. He sent me to help you with the soldiers." Percival paused. "But it seems you don't need any help..."

With another deep, shaking breath Arthur forced his facade of calm into place and raised his right arm. "Nonsense. I need help getting up for the next round."

Percival nodded in assent and stepped into place to pull Arthur to his feet and support him more than Arthur would have liked to admit. "Are you alright?"

Arthur nodded. "Battered, is all. We need to find Alymere." He clamped his hand tighter over the wound in his side and staggered forward.

Percival caught him before he could fall and swiftly tugged him to the side and behind a nearby house. "Not that way. There's a swarm I had to go around on my way here."

Arthur rested the back of his head against the wall for just a moment before gesturing for Percival to go ahead. "Lead the way, then." As much as he would like to keep fighting until either every soldier was dead or he was, he knew he couldn't. There were too many people counting on him.

Still lending as much support as Arthur would take, Percival took them through a winding street between houses. They tried to stay close to the edges where there were fewer soldiers to stop them as much as possible, but with dozens of men searching specifically for _them_ , it was inevitable that they would run into problems.

"Problems" in the form of eight armed soldiers and one sorcerer in their path a mere fifty feet from the forest's edge.

Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin's wrist and drew him closer, concealing him as much as he could behind himself. He sensed Percival shifting to stand beside him on his left.

"Give up!" The sorcerer jeered, his fingers sparking and eyes glowing gold in a show of intimidation. "Ye're outnumbered an' outmatched. Nae one can stand against the _Faileasach Dán_."

Arthur sighed and drew his sword again, stepping away from Percival to stand on his own. "Let's get this over with, then."

"Oi, ye sons of whores! Move yer sorry arses afore I shove my boot so far up 'em yer heads come off! I've places t' be!"

"Ah, I had wondered where the physician had gone to." Percival said quietly.

If these soldiers were anyone else, Arthur would feel sorry for them as five of them spun around in surprise to face the new enemy that had somehow managed to creep up behind them.

Gail, Alymere and Lailoken stood in a line mirroring Arthur and Percival's, sandwiching the unfortunate soldiers between them.

"I would listen to her." Arthur called out, grateful that his rough voice didn't crack again. "You have no business here."

The sorcerer reddened in anger and threw a spell at Arthur, but it was knocked off its mark by Gail's well-aimed knife embedding itself into his shoulder. Four of the soldiers charged her and the two men by her side in retaliation, and the other four went for Percival and Arthur.

Percival cut down the first man and threw his elbow into a second's face, stunning him and sending him reeling back onto Arthur's sword. The next pair were, understandably, more hesitant to face them, but nothing but death stops a fanatic.

Arthur deftly sidestepped a sword and knocked it aside with his own before spinning his sword around and slashing at the soldier's chest. The man leaned back far enough to escape a killing blow, but Excalibur skimmed across chainmail hard enough to bruise─not that the enchanted man would feel it.

"Abéatan!"

Arthur jumped at the unmistakable sound of a spell being cast and had to quickly parry another blow as his opponent attempted to take advantage of his momentary distraction.

Beside him, Percival's battle was abruptly ended when the spell shredded right through the soldier he was fighting. Pieces of the man blasted forward and Percival threw an arm up to shield his face before being knocked to the ground with a cry of pain.

Arthur heard Alymere shout something, but was too absorbed in his own duel to respond. He quickly parried two more blows before successfully creating an opening for a killing strike. The man fell to the ground and Arthur took a weary step back to gain a couple of seconds to catch his breath.

He saw Alymere cut down his own opponent before moving to help Gail with the sorcerer. The sorcerer threw a spell at the pair but, as one, they moved in opposite directions to allow the spell to pass harmlessly between them. Lailoken seemed to be holding his own against the final soldier, so Arthur took a moment to glance down at Percival.

The knight lay, entirely still, in a pool of blood and pieces of the soldier who had been unfortunate enough to have stepped in the way of a poorly timed spell. Arthur was thankful for it, as it was likely the only thing that had kept Percival more-or-less in one piece. He knew Percival must have been hit by at least part of the spell, but there was too much blood to be able to tell how much, if any, was his.

Arthur hoped he was still alive.

He tightened his grip on his sword and stepped past the fallen knight to assist Gail and Alymere against the sorcerer.

"Astríce!" The sorcerer shouted, flinging Gail aside as though she weighed no more than a child's toy. She struck the wall of the blacksmith's home and slid to the ground, unmoving.

Alymere stepped in front of the sorceress protectively as their enemy raised his hand again and opened his mouth to spit out another spell.

Arthur was still too far away, so without hesitation he hefted Excalibur over his shoulder and threw it like a spear. His aim was true and the blade came to a stop deep in the sorcerer's back.

The sorcerer fell to the ground and Alymere stared at Arthur in surprise for only a moment before glancing around to make sure there were no more enemies in sight. He turned around and dropped next to Gail to check on her while Arthur retrieved his sword and did the same with Percival.

Arthur placed a hand on Percival's chest and let out a breath when he felt it move. "He's alive." He called to Alymere.

"As is she." The relief was palpable in Alymere's voice.

Arthur gently shook Percival and was heartened when the knight began to stir. "Percival?" He said urgently.

Percival's eyelids fluttered and he moaned in pain then raised a hand to his head. The force of the blow must have knocked him quite senseless.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked. "Can you walk?"

"Dunno..." Percival slurred, trying to sit up and hissing in pain.

Arthur's eyes roved over Percival's bloody body for wounds, but it was impossible to tell how badly he was injured. "Where are you hurt?" He asked, gesturing for Alymere to join them.

"Head...arm...I think..."

Arthur nodded and carefully examined the arm Percival had used to shield his face from the spell. He winced at the sight of the shredded flesh, but was glad that it did not seem fatal.

Alymere knelt beside Percival, tore most of one sleeve off of his own tunic and began wrapping the arm.

"We need to get to the southern treeline." Arthur said, helping Alymere pull Percival to his feet. "Gwaine is waiting there with Merlin."

Alymere shook his head. "I cannot. Gail is hurt─"

"Obviously we will not leave her here." Arthur said, glancing over to where Lailoken tended to his neighbor.

"We have not yet found her son. We were trying to locate him when we found you...and them. I promised her I would find him."

Arthur mentally cursed. "Right." He looked back to where Gail had lain and was surprised to see Lailoken gathering her into his arms and lifting her up. The old man was stronger than he looked. Arthur suspected magic had something to do with it and wondered why he was ever surprised by anything anymore.

Lailoken watched him curiously, as one might watch a madman. As if he honestly had no idea what he would do next and was fascinated by the prospects.

Arthur released Percival and stepped back, allowing Alymere to take his weight on his own. "Make for the treeline, join Gwaine, and head south. I will find the boy."

"But, Sire!"

"That is an order, Sir Alymere." Arthur said. "We do not have the numbers to stand against them today. We must retreat. I will catch up if I am able."

Alymere nodded unhappily and pulled Percival's uninjured arm over his shoulder and going to join Lailoken. The old man watched Arthur for another moment, then nodded and turned to go.

Arthur turned down an alley, letting himself lean against a wall for support as soon as he was out of sight. The gash in his side burned with every step, his leg felt like it would give out from under him at any moment, and the burn on his arm was no picnic either. He had become used to the pain of broken ribs in the last few weeks, so he counted that as a blessing.

For once, it seemed luck was on his side. He had barely gone a hundred yards when he heard the shrill scream of a child. There were several children in the village, but Arthur had heard that particular scream before and recognized it immediately. He pushed off of the wall and forced himself to straighten even as the world spun around him.

Just around the next corner were two soldiers, one of them with a bloodied nose and the other carrying a kicking boy over his shoulder.

"Jist punch the wee git out." The one with the bloodied nose complained, unaware of the king who crept up behind him. "I donnae ken why Lord Silas wants 'im, anyhow. 'E's jist a wee bairn, innae goin' be any good."

Callum saw Arthur and his green eyes widened in surprise. His fists halted in their beating against the soldier's back.

"See, I donnae need t' hit 'im, e's gone tired 'imsel─"

The soldier was cut off mid-word by a cry of surprise from his companion a fraction of a second before Arthur ran him through. His arms went slack and Callum tumbled to the ground, nimbly rolling away before his abductor's corpse could land on him.

The remaining soldier spun to face Arthur and aimed a wild thrust at his unprotected midsection, but Arthur sidestepped it easily despite his wounds and cut him down.

Arthur rested his sword against the ground and leaned on it like a crutch, exhausted and wishing he had at least had time for some of that porridge before all of this. He couldn't remember the last time he had a decent meal. What with the famine and rationing, it would likely be a while yet.

After he had blinked the spots from his vision he looked up to see that Callum had returned and was busy...looting one of the fallen soldiers for throwing knives and a single long dagger. Arthur recognized them as the boy's own, likely confiscated when he was captured.

"We have to get to the forest."

Callum sheathed most of his knives, but kept a hold on the dagger and eyed Arthur with suspicion. "I need t' find my mam."

"She's in the forest. South side." Arthur was impressed by the boy's resolve and courage. No more than eight summers old and willing to brave an army with nothing more than a few small blades.

Callum shook his head. "She woulnae 'ave left without me. She's gotta be here someplace."

Arthur nodded, then immediately regretted it when it made his head swim. He closed his eyes for a moment. "She was looking for you, but she found a sorcerer first. He threw her into a wall and she knocked her head, so I am here in her stead."

Callum stared at Arthur for a few seconds and he got the distinct impression that he was being judged by the child. Just when Arthur was about to reaffirm their need for haste the boy nodded and stepped closer. "This place is heevin' with 'em, we'd do better t' get t' the east trees an' circle 'round. They're closer an' it's easier t' hide in the woods."

"Whatever we're doing, we'd best do it quickly." Arthur said, looking up as he heard voices from behind them.

Callum nodded and tugged at Arthur's sleeve, leading him down a narrow alley towards the woods. "Is Gwaine alright?"

Arthur managed a small smile at the boy's concern. "He's fine."

They ducked around another corner, ran─or in Arthur's case, limped─down another alley and emerged into the woods. Arthur thanked the gods for small blessings when there were no shouts of alarm or armed men coming to stop them. He didn't think he had the energy to fight any more.

Callum relaxed more and more the further they walked into the woods and away from the soldiers, but hard lines of anger and grief remained in his expression. It looked wrong on such a young face, but Arthur remembered that these weren't just raiding bandits or dangerous soldiers to this boy, as they likely were to many of the village children. These were the men who made him watch as his father wasted away into madness before his eyes.

Arthur knew the feeling.

"Ye're bleedin'."

Arthur frowned down at the child. "It's just a couple of cuts; I'll be fine."

"A coupl'a cuts that are bleedin'." Callum continued obstinately. "Why dinnae ye wrap 'em?"

"No time." Arthur responded shortly, trying not to lean on too many trees. "We have to get to the others."

"Ye're gonna pass out, and I innae gonna carry ye." Callum said briskly, sounding exactly like his mother. "Sit down a mite, I'll check 'em for ye."

Arthur shook his head. "I told my knights to leave without us. If we don't get moving we won't be able to catch up with them."

"We can catch up. But I'm nae movin' from this spot 'till ye sit and lemme see yer cuts."

Arthur gave the boy a half-hearted glare. "I could drag you out."

"Doubt it." Callum returned the glare with an adorable grin, complete with a missing tooth and dimples.

Arthur sighed and lowered himself to the ground against a tree, knowing Callum was right.

"Ye're a right mess." He said as he peeled up the soaked fabric on Arthur's side to look at the gash.

"Thanks." Arthur hissed. "How qualified are you, anyway?"

"Any old idjit can wrap a cut; it innae hard. This one might need stitchin', though, and Mam says I'm rubbish at that, so ye'd best wait." He pulled a wide sash of cotton from his waist and began tying it tightly around Arthur's. "Asides, I donnae have any needles or nothin'."

"Well, that's a relief." Arthur said wrily.

There was a brief moment of silence between them before Arthur broke it. "You don't seem very worried about your mother."

Callum shrugged. "Ye said she knocked her head. Well, Mam's head is harder than anythin' I've ever seen, so she'll be aright. Asides, I never seen he get hurt enough she cannae walk it off. Too stubborn fer that."

He tied off a final knot and looked up at Arthur appraisingly. "She says ye're fated t' save us. Says ye'll set us free."

"So I've heard."

"Is it true? Are ye really gonna make the Golden Age?"

"How am _I_ supposed to know? Why don't you ask the old man. He seems to know everything."

"I did. He said it was up to ye an' Emrys what happens."

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?" Arthur said, grabbing onto a low branch and pulling himself to his feet.

Callum also stood. "I jist hope ye figure it out soon, 'cause I donnae have anywhere t' go nae more. Cannae go home at any rate."

"You are welcome to accompany us to Camelot. You would be offered protection there."

Callum shook his head. "I cannae go without Mam."

Arthur opened his mouth to invite Gail to Camelot as well but hesitated when he realized what that would mean. Was he really prepared to bring magic _into_ his kingdom after a lifetime of driving it out?

He was spared from answering when Callum's eyes lit up and he bounded off into the woods. "Innit that lucky?" He said brightly, pointing to a dark brown mare. Its flanks were streaked with soot and sweat, but it appeared to be unharmed from its flight.

 _Lucky indeed. But not quite lucky enough for a saddle._

"Hey there, pretty gel." Callum crooned softly, stroking the mare's neck to calm her. She seemed to know him and relaxed, reaching her head down to push at his stomach. He laughed and stumbled back. "Sorry, I donnae have any treats today."

For a moment Callum seemed nothing more than a little boy playing with a horse in the woods. The idea clashed with the one his father had instilled in him, that sorcerers and their children were soulless, _wrong_ creatures. He had seen enough proof to know that things weren't always quite so black and white.

Arthur sighed and followed the boy to the horse. "Let's go. If we make haste we can reach the others before nightfall."

Callum nodded and eagerly scrambled onto the horse then waited for Arthur to painstakingly pull himself up behind him. He felt more blood trickle from the wound in his side and the scabbed-over cut on his leg split open again.

Arthur nudged the horse forward as Callum began prattling on about magic and horses and strawberries and how much he wished he could meet a _dragon_ of all things. Arthur sighed and pressed his bloody hand against his side again.

It was going to be a long ride.

* * *

 **Believe it or not, but the first incarnation of this chapter was actually more comedy than angst. It was great, with Gwaine, Percival, Arthur, Gail and Lailoken all ping-ponging banter off of each-other and Merlin walking out of the house of his own free will. But I am a sadistic bastard with a sordid heart, so it just wouldn't do. I found it quite jarring.  
**

 **But, you all know what they say: It's always the darkest before the dawn.**

 **Until next time.**


	20. Chapter XIX

**So, uh...sorry? I know, I'm horribly late, but real life is seriously busy this month. I started a new job, so now I've got threeish, my cousin's getting married like, tomorrow or something, I've got family visiting, and there were no fewer than _ten_ birthdays this week. _Teeeeen_. Like, seriously, people, what's up with that? Seven of those were on the same day!**

 **Moving on. I tried to keep this chapter a bit more light-hearted, and, well...It was hard, okay? Apparently I'm one for extremes. I can write super goofy stuff and super dark stuff, but the stuff in between gives me trouble. Oh well. Here it is.**

* * *

 **Chapter XIX**

"An', when I finally caught up to 'im, 'e was in my mam's pantry! Stealin', if ye can believe it! An' so I caught the stinkin' bugger, _obviously he was nae match for I_ , an' after a wee bit of convincin' I got 'im on my side. We made a deal; my forgiveness for 'is co'peration.

"A'course, 'e was reluctant at first, but 'e truly had little choice, in the end. So together we crept into Muira's house an' I snuck 'im into her bed while she was sleepin'. I hardly had time to drop an' roll under the bed afore she was up an' screamin' bloody murder. She grabbed her mam's cookin' pot an' smashed it right on 'im─twice!─but 'e still lived, jumpin' 'round an' screamin' 'is poor wee head off near as loud as she was. She even whacked 'im right into the fire but 'e jist hopped back out. It was like nary a thing could touch 'im."

Arthur rolled his eyes. He had given up a mile back on ignoring the boy's chatter and had been pleasantly surprised that he was actually a decent storyteller. Some of the ridiculous tales he told reminded him achingly of Merlin, but it was a good distraction.

"I don't believe it. There's no way a toad could survive such an attack."

"But this was nae mere toad, King!" Callum defended. "Big as my head, 'e was, an' could jump twice as high! I swear, 'e was magic!"

He also had a bit of a flair for the dramatic.

Arthur smiled despite himself and his throbbing head. "And what, pray tell, did Muira do when she discovered who put the toad in her bed? From what I have heard, she isn't the kind of girl who lets such things go without retaliation."

Callum's ears slowly turned pink and he shifted uncomfortably on the horse's back. "That donnae matter none..." He muttered under his breath.

Arthur tried not to laugh at him.

"We both got a terrible rash the next day. Lasted two weeks! 'Parrently 'e was a poisonous toad as well as magic. Mam was right pissed 'bout that, but─hey! The river!" The boy quickly dismounted; Arthur barely had time to stop the horse before he hit the ground and took off running toward the "river."

It may have been a wide river once, but now it was no more than a deep ditch with a tiny brook running through it at the bottom. Callum was nevertheless excited to see it and splashed his way into the deepest part. The water barely touched his knees.

Arthur painstakingly dismounted the mare and followed much more slowly, taking note of the fresh tracks at the banks. He counted prints from two horses and four men. He pointed them out to Callum.

"They stopped here. Refilled their waterskins and watered the horses. It looks like they found two of them, just like we did. That was lucky."

He examined the mud more closely and was satisfied when he found very little blood, and what blood there was was where Percival had dismounted, stumbled to the stream with Alymere's help and knelt, probably to clean his wounds. A scrap of bloodied fabric supported this theory. "Your mother was still unconscious. Percival was awake and upright, though, which is a good sign. They didn't stay here long, but the prints aren't more than an hour or two old. We should catch up with them soon."

Callum peered at the mud and then blinked up at Arthur in awe. "How can ye tell?"

"Your mother's footprints are smaller than any of the men's. Percival's are easy; they're much bigger and his gait is unsteady. He was wounded earlier." Arthur pointed to Alymere's prints alongside Percival's. "Alymere's are longer and narrower than Gwaine's and, besides, Gwaine wouldn't have wanted to leave Merlin alone on the horse." He pointed back to the series of human footprints surrounding a horse's.

"Lailoken stayed with your mother. His prints are also easy to tell apart simply because of the make of his boots. They are much different than the ones my knights wear." He finished, pointing at the prints next to the second set of horse prints.

Arthur limped the last couple of steps to the stream and knelt, wincing, to wash the dried blood from himself as well as he could. He peeled his tunic off, holding his breath as the movement tugged at his ribs and the new wound in his side. The water rapidly turned red when he started to rinse it out and splash the water over himself.

"Can ye teach me that?" Callum asked eagerly, poking one of the footprints with his finger.

"Maybe." Arthur answered tiredly. "If there's time."

"Keith can do that, a bit, but nothin' that detailed. He's real good at chasin' down deers an' things though."

The boy finally fell quiet after that, allowing Arthur to wash the blood out of his hair in peace.

But, of course, it didn't last.

"Do ye reckon...they're okay?"

Arthur lifted his head and blinked the water out of his eyes. Callum wasn't looking at him. Instead, he was staring off into the distance back the way they came.

"Most of them ran. And besides, they weren't there for the village. They were looking for me." Arthur assured him. "Now that I'm gone, they won't stay."

Callum nodded and kicked the water with his foot. "It was almost starting t' feel like home again."

"What do you mean?"

Callum shrugged, still looking down at the mud. "It was different, after Pa..." He shook his head. "I dinnae want t' stay. I wanted to go somewhere else, but Mam said there was nowhere for us. We could nae go north, closer to _them_ , and further south there's..." The boy trailed off, looking nervous.

"Me." Arthur answered for him, surprised at the amount of guilt he felt. He could only try to imagine a life like the one Callum had, being trapped and isolated for something completely out of his control. Arthur knew the dangers of magic. He had seen them for himself many times. The laws were in place for a reason, to keep ordinary people safe.

But keeping those people safe had condemned this child to a limited life of seclusion and fear. He lived with the Mirror as his neighbors because...Because they made better neighbors than Camelot did.

The thought shocked Arthur into silence, leaving him unable to do anything but finish washing his tunic.

"Still," The boy continued cheerfully, apparently unable to stay down for long. "It'll be a right adventure, won' it? I _finally_ get t' travel!"

Arthur stiffly stood up, wrung out his cleanish tunic and tried to push his disturbing thoughts aside. He would have to save them for later.

He pulled the wet tunic over his head and shivered, wishing that his spares hadn't all burned. He wasn't looking forward to the temperature dropping tonight; it was already too cold. He cupped his hand together and drank as much water as he could manage on his empty stomach, then straightened again.

"We'd better get moving again if we want to catch up." He said curtly before walking back to the horse and mounting. Callum pulled himself up behind him and wrapped his small arms carefully around Arthur's waist.

The obvious trust and care to Arthur's wound that the boy was displaying made the guilt heavier in his stomach. He mentally kicked himself for being so weak. His father never would have felt _guilty_ for indirectly harming the son of a sorceress.

 _No; your father would have drowned him._

He nudged the mare forwards, following the tracks where he could see them. The ground was so dry in most places that they had hardly left any, but Arthur wasn't concerned. He knew which direction they had gone and knew they weren't far behind.

A sudden jolt of unexplained anxiety hit him and he quickly looked around, expecting sorcerers to leap out of the trees at him, but there was no one there. He shook his head and took several deep, even breaths to try to calm himself down, but the feeling didn't abate.

 _What is this? A_ panic attack _? I am a king, for gods' sakes. I don't_ have _panic attacks._

Still, his heart was pounding and his palms were starting to sweat and he suddenly felt like if he didn't catch up to the rest of the group _now_ , he never would.

"Hey, what do ye call a sheep without any legs?" Callum suddenly asked.

Arthur blinked in surprise for a few seconds, then forced himself to bury the unfounded anxiety and answer as casually as he could. "Dinner."

Callum laughed, but shook his head. "A cloud!"

Arthur sighed, but Callum was too busy laughing at himself to notice. "Hey, what's brown an' sticky? A stick!"

"That's not even─"

"Why did the cyclops tutor retire?"

Arthur sighed again. "I don't know. Why did he?"

"A'cause 'e only had one pupil! What did the wall say to the other wall? Meet ye at the corner!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and resigned himself to at least another couple dozen such "jokes." He had learned earlier on their journey that, once started, there was nothing Arthur could do to stop him short of straight up knocking him out. Still, it was a welcome distraction from his near panic attack a moment before. In fact, it was working so well, Arthur was beginning to wonder if it was intentional.

Callum continued to natter on for the next hour before he finally dozed off with his head on Arthur's shoulder, where he remained for another hour. Eventually, when Arthur thought he would soon fall off the horse from exhaustion, he heard the distant sound of a furious voice.

"Thank the gods..." Arthur sighed wearily, nudging Callum awake.

"Eh?" He mumbled sleepily, then suddenly sat upright with a gasp. "Mam!"

The boy untangled his arms from around Arthur's waist and abruptly slid off the side of the horse. His legs buckled when they hit the ground and he fell to his hands and knees but quickly scrambled back to his feet and took off running, calling for his mother. The angry ranting cut off and Arthur heard Gail make a joyful exclamation, but he couldn't quite make it out from this distance.

Arthur smiled slightly and dismounted as well, though much slower than the energetic little boy had. His vision swam and he had to lean against the patient mare for a moment before patting her dappled grey neck and leading her gently after the boy.

It didn't take long for him to spot Gail, her back to him, clutching her son tightly to her chest. The knot of red braids at the back of her head was coming loose and several of the tiny braids had escaped and fell nearly all the way down her back like snakes. Callum, legs dangling in the air, grinned at Arthur over his mother's shoulder and gave him a thumbs-up.

The horse nickered and Gail quickly lowered Callum to the forest floor beside her, turned and put a hand to her sword in one smooth movement.

Arthur glared at her and protested before she got the chance to draw it. "If you point that thing at my neck again, I swear, I won't be taking it as nicely this time. I've had a bad day."

Gail forced a disingenuous smirk onto her face. "Ye look terrible."

Arthur looked down at his damp, stained tunic and sighed in disgust.

Gail pointed her thumb behind her at the group of exhausted, bloodied men in the clearing behind her. "Get over there and sit yerself down afore ye faint, ye numpty."

Arthur barely even noticed the insult or the strangely affectionate tone she bestowed it with. He stepped forward to do as he was told, only to have her stop him with a hand on his shoulder. He blinked down at her in confusion as she seemed to struggle to find words.

Her gaze dropped to the ground between them for a moment before coming back up to meet his. "Thank ye, Arthur, for savin' my son. He's all I got." She said quietly, clutching Callum to her side tighter.

Arthur nodded. "I owe you." He responded just as quietly, almost surprising himself. It was true. He _owed_ a sorceress.

Before either of them could contemplate the implications of that statement Arthur was walking─or stumbling─towards his men.

Merlin and Gwaine were leaning side-by-side against the same tree, the former wrapped in a blanket and facing away from him and the latter staring at Arthur inscrutably. Guilt made Arthur quickly look away from his two friends.

Percival lay under a cloak a short distance away, either deeply asleep or unconscious.

Alymere was striding towards him relief written plainly across his features. "Thank the gods you're alright, Sire."

"How is everyone?" Arthur asked him quietly.

"Percival is badly injured, but stable. Gail only just woke up, but aside from a headache she seems to be fine." His eyes darted toward Merlin and Gwaine and he paled. "Merlin woke earlier, but I was with Percival at the time...I didn't hear everything."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. Alymere─ _Alymere,_ of all people─was hiding something from him. No matter. He would just have to ask Gwaine. He nodded his thanks to Alymere and turned away.

"Gwaine." He said quietly as he limped away from Alymere and towards Merlin and Gwaine. "What happened?"

Gwaine continued to stare at Arthur blankly. Now that he was closer he could clearly see the cold anger burning in his eyes. "Well, congratulations, Your Majesty. In five minutes you've managed to do what those bastards couldn't do in six months. You _broke_ him."

Arthur tried to swallow the lump in his throat and found it impossible. "What happened?" He repeated.

"He woke up a few hours ago and nearly leapt off the horse. He was fighting me and screaming..." Gwaine glanced down at Merlin's still form and clenched his jaw before continuing. "I had to dismount. He was in a panic to get away from me and didn't stop until his back was against this tree.

"Then he just...He collapsed, crying. Kept repeating 'I was wrong,' over and over again like it was the only thing he could think of. Wouldn't let any of us near him. He didn't even _recognize us_ , Arthur. He thought I was one of _them_. Called me Bryce, then begged me to kill him."

"The man in the tavern in Elwick." Arthur said quietly, not even caring that his voice cracked.

"We had to keep moving but we couldn't get him back on the horse and there was no way I was drugging him again. After maybe an hour of that he..."

"He _what_ , Gwaine?" Arthur growled when the knight stopped.

Gwaine looked back up at Arthur and the king was startled to see hatred in his eyes. "He _stopped_. He stopped everything, like someone just blew out a candle. Stopped talking, stopped crying, stopped rocking, even stopped _blinking_ for a minute. He won't respond to anything, not even when we made him drink some water. He's just _gone_."

Arthur's eyes darted down to Merlin's slumped form, but he still couldn't see his face. He wasn't sure he wanted to, now, but he gathered his courage and took the two steps around the tree to face Merlin. He crouched down in front of him and swallowed hard. It did nothing for the lump in his throat.

Merlin was deathly pale─Arthur had to remind himself that _of course_ Merlin was pale after spending six months underground and he _wasn't_ dying─and completely still aside from his shallow, wheezing breaths. The soot had been cleaned from his skin but he still wore the dirty, black and grey smudged shirt. His eyes, one blue and one white and both bloodshot, stared straight ahead, completely empty and unresponsive. If he hadn't already seen the rise and fall of his chest Arthur would have thought Merlin to be dead. As it was, he was reminded painfully of his father's last months.

"Merlin?" Arthur croaked, his voice no more than a whisper. Merlin didn't react.

Gwaine ran a hand through his dirty hair and sighed. "He's been like this for the past two hours. Gail only just woke up, and we've had our hands full keeping her from chasing after you ever since. We didn't make good time today. If they're still after us..."

"I saw no sign of anyone on my way here." Arthur assured him, managing to sound almost normal, though he couldn't take his eyes off of Merlin's.

"What was the point?" Gwaine growled, hurling a small stone across the clearing in anger. "That attack was clumsy, useless. They had plenty of time to prepare, but still they failed completely. They gained _nothing_ , and now they aren't even bothering to hunt us down? Don't get me wrong, I don't _want_ them to, but it isn't right. With all their power and us weakened they should have been able to crush us like they did at the cliff."

Arthur shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his face wearily, still not able to look anywhere but Merlin, hoping for some sort of sign he was still in there. That he hadn't destroyed his friend after everything. " _Nothing_ has made sense for the past seven months, Gwaine."

Merlin blinked and Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin. For several seconds he waited with bated breath and just when he was about to dismiss it as just a blink, Merlin did it again. His head shifted slightly and his eyes met Arthur's.

"Merlin?" Arthur said again, reaching out to touch his uninjured shoulder.

"How dare you." Merlin's voice was quiet and hoarse, but there was no mistaking the icy tone of hatred. Hatred directed towards _him_ , Arthur.

Arthur recoiled and stood as Merlin stirred, then pulled himself onto shaky legs with help from the tree. Gwaine shot to his feet as well and said something, clearly relieved that Merlin had snapped out of whatever it was he was in, but neither Arthur or Merlin were listening.

"How dare you come here, looking like _this._ "

Hurt and shame gave way to confusion. Arthur glanced down at himself only briefly before looking back up at Merlin. His tunic was still damp and stained pinkish with blood, but it was nothing Merlin had never seen before and he had no idea why he would be so offended by it.

"M─"

"You think if you use his face, his voice, if you stand there looking hurt and worried and bleeding I'll _help_ you?" Merlin spat the words at him with contempt and loathing. "This is low, even for you."

"I'm not─"

Merlin's broken voice raised to a shout and Arthur knew they had the full attention of everyone in the clearing by now. "You made me trust you! You _tricked_ me and lied to me and made me think it was over but _no more_! I'm done!"

Arthur shook his head helplessly and right then, all he could manage was a whispered, " _I'm sorry_."

"Enough lies!" Merlin screamed. "I've had enough! I won't listen to them anymore. No matter what you try, it's _not going to work_. You can beat me, whip me, burn me, violate me, tear apart my head, send as many of your thugs at me as you've got but the _joke's on you, Silas_ , because you don't even know what you're looking for!"

Arthur's heart broke a little more when he realized that Merlin wasn't spitting these hateful words at _him_. He was convinced he'd never been rescued, because he didn't believe _Arthur_ would ever have drugged him.

"Do you hear me, you pathetic bastard? _You'll never have it_. I've hidden it away and locked it up and you'll never get it because _I'm still stronger than you_." Merlin stepped forward and shoved at Arthur as hard as he could. Arthur didn't budge, but the effort nearly cost Merlin his balance.

"You've ruined everything!" Merlin continued, fisting his hand in his hair and looking hysterical. "All those years, all my work, the secrets and lies and _sodding destiny_ and you've ruined it! I can never go home now. Arthur's going to hate me or himself and I can't bear that. It was all for nothing." He choked off with a sob and shook his head despairingly.

"Merlin, we _can_ go home." Arthur argued. "Just tell me what's wrong and we can sort it out!"

"Stop wasting your time!" Merlin roared, his voice reaching a volume Arthur hadn't believed it even could anymore. "Just get it over with and kill me already!"

"Stop this, please." Arthur pleaded, wanting more than anything to never see such madness in Merlin's eyes again but not knowing how to get rid of it.

"You're not going to win this. I won't let you win this! You've taken everything else from me, but not this! _Never this_." Merlin raved, shoving at Arthur again. Arthur didn't know how, or where he got it, but suddenly there was a knife in Merlin's hand and he was lunging forward. In that moment, all Arthur could think about was back in the cave when Kay had lunged at Gail and she had just _stood there_ and done nothing and how he hadn't understood it at the time. Now, all he could feel was _IfailedIfailedIfailed_ and he understood perfectly.

He was distantly aware of one of his knights shouting and then Alymere was yanking him back and Gwaine had caught Merlin's wrist just after the tip of the blade had skimmed barely an inch over the skin on his throat.

Arthur stood completely still as Gwaine disarmed Merlin and Merlin screamed wordlessly in rage. It wasn't long before the screams turned to obscenities Arthur could have never imagined coming from _anyone's_ mouth, much less Merlin's. Even Gwaine recoiled in shock.

Then his weak legs buckled beneath him, he made a strange whimpering noise and his face went grey.

Arthur lurched forward on instinct and Merlin grinned up at him with bloodied teeth. He'd bitten his tongue. "Y-you w-won-n' wi-in." He stuttered as he started to shake violently in Gwaine's grip.

"What's happening?" Gwaine asked, sounding panicked. "Arthur, what's happening?"

Arthur shook his head helplessly just before Merlin's eyes rolled back into his head and the tremors turned into full-blown convulsions.

Arthur quickly grabbed Merlin from Gwaine's grasp and laid him down on the ground. Merlin's limbs flailed wildly and he made quiet, animal-like grunting noises.

When Gail shoved Arthur aside and moved in to take his place Arthur let her, glad that someone more qualified was taking over. He straightened up and began to pace nervously, his hand covering his mouth before he even realized it. Gail quickly rolled Merlin onto his left side and began to probe at his skull.

"Did he hit his head earlier?"

Gwaine shook his head. "No. Arthur gave him a sedative, that was it."

Arthur paused in his pacing long enough to look down at Merlin and see the bloodstained, foamy vomit leaking from his mouth even as he spasmed uncontrollably. He could no longer hear any sounds of breath from his friend and the sharp scent of urine reached his nose.

"What's wrong with him?" Arthur demanded, not even caring at how stressed his voice sounded. "Gail, is he dying? He's not breathing." His voice cracked on the last word.

 _You can't be dying, Merlin, not after all this. Not because of me._

"He's done this twice before." Gwaine reminded him. "After the...bridges were broken."

Arthur took two steps toward them and gestured angrily at his friend on the ground. "There is no bridge anymore, it has to be something else! Could he have been cursed or something on his way out?"

Gwaine shot to his feet and glared daggers at Arthur. " _No._ _I_ was protecting him. Nothing touched him after _you_."

Arthur spread his arms to his sides wildly, knowing he probably appeared to be on the verge of hysteria. "What would you have had me do, Gwaine? I couldn't just leave him to die!"

"Maybe you should have!" Gwaine snapped back. "That's obviously what he wants!"

"You cannot mean that." Arthur said, shocked, then continued with more force. "No, _you_ cannot mean that! _You_ can't." Not Gwaine, the stubborn one, the strong one, the one who never gave up, who didn't follow the rules and could never be beaten down.

"I don't know anymore, Arthur. I _don't know_. I just know that he's miserable and just tried to _kill you_ and if he's miserable and homicidal he's not Merlin, and if he's not Merlin than just who are we trying to save here?" Gwaine shouted.

Arthur took a step back again and spun around, pacing three more steps in a vain attempt to control himself only to turn around to face Merlin again when Gail spoke.

"Would ye two idjits like to shut it now?" She snapped, exasperated. "Enough with yer bloody bickerin'! He innae cursed. I donnae ken why this is happenin', but he innae dying, either. He got through the other two jist fine."

Sure enough, the convulsions were slowing, becoming almost lazy before finally stilling. Merlin went limp and breathed heavily. Gail gently pried open his mouth and made sure there was no vomit trapped in his throat, sat back and sighed. "I will admit though, that cannae have been good for his shoulder."

Gail pressed two fingers against the side of Merlin's neck and held her left arm out to her side. In a second Callum had stepped into the embrace. She pulled him close and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and walked towards the horses.

Gwaine clenched his fists, breathed heavily through his rage, then spun on his heel and stormed off into the trees. Arthur could only hope that he merely meant to cool his head with a walk, or maybe bash some trees. At this point, he doubted anything could stop him if he decided to turn around and try to take on the Mirror by himself.

"We cannae move on today." Gail told Arthur, not paying any attention to the wayward knight. "He needs to rest. This journey will be hard enough on him without pushing on."

Arthur slowly sank to the ground, back against a tree, and buried his face in his hands.

He heard Gail sigh again. " _Shite_. We've still got light; I was hoping to make more progress. Thank ye, Cal." Arthur looked up long enough to see Gail taking a bundle of fabric from her son and setting it beside Merlin's head before getting back to checking him over.

For a long time, no one spoke and Arthur was grateful for the silence, as uncomfortable and tense as it was. He could practically feel Alymere's eyes on him.

But then─because _of course_ he did, the senile git─Lailoken interrupted it.

"Once and Future."

Arthur's head snapped up and he saw Lailoken standing beside him, looking far too calm and relaxed for what had just happened. Arthur felt a surge of indignant anger; Percival was badly wounded and unconscious, they were vastly outnumbered by a crazy magical cult out to kill them, Merlin had gone mad, Gwaine hated his guts and they _still_ had no solution to the mountain pass but there the old man was, just standing there looking senile.

"What?" Arthur snapped tiredly.

"You saved the boy." The old man sounded pleased and almost...awed.

Arthur stared incredulously. "Is that _really_ the issue you want to talk about right now? With everything else going on?"

"You have chosen your path."

"Yeah. South." Arthur grumbled sarcastically. "To Camelot."

Lailoken tipped his head and regarded Arthur thoughtfully for a moment, then abruptly slapped a hand to Arthur's forehead.

Arthur shouted in surprise and tried to draw away, but with the tree at his back there was nowhere to go. The old man's dark eyes frosted over until they were a milky white and he appeared to stare at something on the trunk of the tree.

Arthur instinctively looked to Gail for help and saw her watching him with interest, Merlin apparently forgotten for now.

"What's he doing? Should I be─"

"Listening?" Gail interrupted. "Aye. This donnae happen often."

The old man stared past Arthur in silence for several more seconds before finally speaking in a low voice that sent shivers down Arthur's spine.

" _Foes become allies and friends will fall to darkness. Smoke can aid you, but beware the ice that follows._

" _Magic stands at Courage's right hand and Strength at his back, Kindness keeps his heart and The Dreamer protects The Legacy. If one of the Five falls the Path will divert again and Albion will surely be lost_."

The old man blinked dazedly and his eyes slowly cleared and darkened again. His gaze finally settled on Arthur before he continued quietly. "You can still save your friend, but not on your own. _You must find Emrys_. Only he can save Merlin from himself."

Arthur shoved himself to his feet with some difficulty; it was amazing how stiff he had gotten all of a sudden, and the sudden change of elevation made the world spin. "If Emrys is so helpful, where was he when we were searching? When Merlin was taken? When our friends were dying? Why should I trust someone who would just allow this to happen?"

Lailoken pursed his lips thoughtfully and turned his head to look at Merlin, laying on his side unconscious and pale. "I'll leave you to figure that one out on your own. I will leave you with a warning, though: This path is a double-edged sword. You won't always be able to tell one side from another, and one mistake will cost you and yours everything. The weight of the world is a heavy burden indeed, but the one who carried it is now unable. You must step in and take your turn."

The old man flashed him a bright, carefree smile. "Good luck."

Lailoken then looked down at his feet, put one finger in his mouth and held it in the air as if to test the direction of the nonexistent wind, then smiled inanely and started walking away.

Arthur sputtered. "Wait, what? What kind of nonsense was that?"

Lailoken paused briefly. "Oh, one more thing; there is no need to worry about the pass. Your way home will be clear." He gave the group an idle wave and began to walk away again.

 _Well, great. You could have told me that earlier, but_ nooo _, you had to let me worry over it for weeks..._

Gail shot to her feet and ran after him, catching him by the arm and stopping him before he disappeared into the woods. "Are ye leaving?" She asked incredulously, her face creased in confusion and dismay.

He looked down at her and caressed her cheek gently. "You don't need me anymore, child."

She shook her head, suddenly looking to Arthur like a lost little girl─a far cry from the stubborn, fierce warrior he had seen before. She said something to the old man, but her voice was too quiet and the distance between them too great for Arthur to hear.

"Don't fret. I have faith that you will find your place. You have earned that much."

For a second, Arthur thought Gail might actually _cry_. But then she lowered her head, clenched her jaw and nodded.

A moan from across the camp drew Arthur's attention and he turned his head to see Percival stirring in his sleep. Alymere checked on him and Arthur looked back to Gail to find that Lailoken had vanished and the sorceress was returning to Merlin's side.

Arthur stiffly walked forward and sank to the ground next to Merlin, pretending that he had meant to and his knees _hadn't_ just buckled beneath him.

From the raised eyebrows Gail was aiming at him, she hadn't bought it.

Arthur ignored her and absently brushed some of Merlin's too-long hair away from his pale face. There was a bit of vomit in the strands and they were wet with sweat, but cleanliness wasn't one of Arthur's priorities these days and he barely even noticed. "What do you think is wrong with him?" Arthur asked quietly.

"Aside from the obvious?"

Arthur glared at the physician and she shrugged. "They hurt his mind in ways I cannae ever comprehend. It could have damaged his head somehow, but there's nae way to ken for sure. I think sommat else is happening, though. Jist a feelin' I got. It was almost like..." She trailed off, then shook her head and shrugged.

"For now, though, I think he'll be alright. We need to get him into some clean, warm clothes afore nightfall. Help me lift him up. Gently, now."

Arthur carefully slipped an arm under Merlin's good shoulder and put his other hand against his chest then pulled him slowly into a sitting position and letting him lean against his own chest. The shirt was just about ruined, so Gail didn't bother putting Merlin through the pain of removing it the old-fashioned way and simply sliced down the front with a sharp dagger and pulled the filthy material away.

Arthur heard a sharp intake of breath from Gail and looked down at Merlin's chest to see what she had seen.

Merlin's skin was a sickly, mottled color; the same as his legs and right arm had been when they had first found him. It had been healing before, but now it seemed to be spreading all of a sudden.

"What in the blazes?" Arthur exclaimed in alarm. "He was getting better─how did this happen? The manacles are gone."

Gail shook her head, clearly just as confused as he was and clearly distraught at the revelation. "He was fine this morning."

She shook her head again and pressed a hand against Merlin's chest, right over the brand, then closed her eyes and whispered something under her breath. She pulled back a moment later with a startled gasp. "What in the world..." She muttered incredulously, her gaze going to the ground beneath them.

"Lay him back down." She ordered, her urgent tone leaving no room for argument.

"What's going on?" Arthur demanded as he did as he was told, laying Merlin back on the ground.

" _Look_." Gail breathed, sounding as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "The Earth is healing him."

Sure enough, the dry, cracked grey dirt seemed to be somehow regaining some of its color underneath Merlin. The dead grass sluggishly began to fade from grey to yellow and instead of the brittle texture it had been before, it was now soft and bendy.

"The current is resisting; tryin' to flow into him instead of the crystals." She said with awe. "It's... _diverting to save him_."

Arthur looked at Merlin's skin as it regained just a tiny amount of color where it touched the ground. He was looking better, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.

"Look at this, Pendragon." Gail's voice had gone quiet and serious, and Arthur suddenly got the feeling that he would look back at this moment as one of the most important ones of his life, though he didn't yet know why.

"This is the magic of the Earth; as pure a magic as there can be. It is nothing _but_ magic, uncontrolled by anything but itself. Ye understand this?"

Arthur nodded, wondering what she was getting at.

"Ye've seen what magic can be twisted into, back in the cave. _That_ is what magic can be." She gestured at Merlin. " _This_ is what magic _is_."

This magic, of its own accord, was helping Merlin because...why? Just because he needed it to?

An epiphany suddenly struck Arthur, leaving him feeling like an idiot. It wasn't the manacles. It had _never been_ the manacles. He looked around at the dead, grey trees that looked like all the life had been drawn out of them, then looked down at Merlin's grey, dying body and knew that they were the same.

He cursed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gods, I'm such an idiot. We should have left the day the bridge broke. They're killing him."

"Eh?" Gail asked, nonplussed.

"You said everyone had something like magical energy in them, right? Sort of a life force or something?" When she nodded uncertainly he continued. "But you said you could hardly feel anything in him when you started the bridge."

"What are ye gettin' at, Arthur?"

"Look at this place. Look at him."

Understanding crossed her face and her eyes widened. "Ye think they're somehow takin' it?"

Arthur shrugged. "Why not? He was healing when we were connected; when he was feeding off mine. Now that he's on his own, he's...worse."

"Ye cannae jist take someone's life force without takin' everything they are." Gail argued, but she looked uncertain. "It's their very _soul_. He's obviously still got his. He'd be dead if it was gone."

"But he's clearly missing something. He's not right."

"How can ye expect him to be, after everything?" Gail shot back.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Arthur growled. "We need to get him away from here, as fast as possible." It suddenly struck him that here, where there was no law against magic, there was less of it in this entire forest than Camelot had in its stables.

It also, for the first time, struck him how ridiculous it seemed to ban something that cannot be removed without drastic consequences.

But...the laws _were_ in place for a reason. There was no arguing that.

Gail was nodding, drawing Arthur from his thoughts. She continued to undress Merlin, clean and dry the remaining wounds that hadn't healed and rebind his right arm to his chest with the efficiency only a physician could possess. "I'd like to heal Percival, too. He'll live, but unless I can get some magic into him soon, he may never use that arm again. Or, at least, it cannae regain full strength. I patched it up as best I could after yer knights had a go at it, but with what I've got here I cannae do much."

She sent a dark look towards Alymere, who was sitting a ways away looking exhausted. "I donnae ken how ye all survived this long. Yer knights are right terrible at healin'. Those were the worst bandages I'd ever seen."

Arthur looked down at Merlin wistfully. "We had one."

Gail blinked in surprise, then laughed softly. "Goodness. Servant, friend of a king, enemy of sorcerers, and he's a physician too? I would have liked to have known such an extraordinary man, afore all this."

Arthur had never thought of Merlin as _extraordinary_ , but he supposed the word fit him perfectly. He had known it from the moment a peasant boy refused to back down from a public duel with a prince, but it had never truly settled in until just now. Merlin─clumsy, idiotic, loyal, brave, kind, mysterious and _extraordinary_ Merlin.

He remembered the old scars and wondered, yet again, just how much of Merlin's life had he completely missed because he was just too self-absorbed to see it. Or was Merlin really _that_ good at hiding things? And _why_ would he hide them? Did he not trust him? Did he think that he wouldn't care?

"Yeah. Me too." Arthur muttered without thinking.

Gail gave him an odd look, but made no further comment on the matter. Instead, she simply shoved a waterskin and a handful of dried meat into his hands. "Eat, and lemme take a look at yer side. There's no hidin' it; Callum already told me."

Arthur sighed, shoved a piece of the meat in his mouth and gingerly peeled off the dirty tunic. "Fine, but then we're leaving. The sooner we get away from this drain thing, the better."

She shook her head. "We've hardly got any light yet. They'll keep 'till morn."

Arthur studied Merlin's face carefully, noting the tiniest hint of color that had returned. He looked over at Percival and knew that the knight needed rest, too. Waking them now would only be cruel.

He nodded grudgingly. "First light."

"First light." She agreed with a small smile. "Then off to Camelot."

 _We're going home_.

* * *

 **And here is, if I had been separating this into parts, the end of part two, methinks. Or maybe just part one. Dunno, don't care.**

 **Seriously though, I had meant for this to be a happier chapter. See what happens when I try to tone down the angst? Everyone goes batshit. It does have a bunch of Callum in it and, I think, a good dose of hope, so there's that I guess.**


	21. Chapter XX

**Heeey, long time no update? *hides from possible angry mob***

 **So really, I have no good excuses. I'd love to say I was attacked by rabid cannibal ninjas or I had a three-month long power outage, but while there was an incident with a hornets' nest, and a separate incident with a chainsaw, there's really nothing to explain my long absence aside from massive writer's block and a touch of laziness. (Though I did try to reply to all the reviews and FF's messaging system borked on me. Either that Or I'm just an idiot.)**

 **Due to the writer's block this chapter was very difficult to write and I ended up writing it way more times than I should have, and it got got the point where I honestly don't even know if it makes sense any more andwhatamIevendoingwithmylife. I feel bad about coming back fom such a long hiatus with...this underwhelming thing, but this chapter can't just be skipped. Seriously, I feel like it should be the most epic thing ever with how long I took to write it.**

 **But alas, it is not that epic. If it's any consolation, during my writer's block madness I ended up typing a bunch of stuff for other chapters, including most of the next one, so unless I decide to trash it and rewrite it like I did so many times with this one, Chapter XXI should come much faster.**

 **In other news, I got my first legitimately and completely negative review! This made me far happier than it should have, but no one ever accused me of being logical. So, thank you all for your reviews, and an extra thank you to Guest, if you're bothering to stick around.**

* * *

 **Chapter XX**

"I figured it out."

Arthur paused in his work and peered up at the small boy in the branches above him. "Sorry?"

"Why he's all muddled." Callum said, scampering a bit higher to reach more of the nuts still clinging stubbornly to the tree. It was the first food they had found in the last three days of rationing their meagre supplies as they traveled through this wasteland, and they were determined not to miss a single one. The others back at the camp would be thrilled when they returned. There was nothing to be done about the eery environment or sombre situation, but abating their hunger would go a long way to improve morale.

Arthur scooped up several more nuts from the ground where they had fallen and stuffed them into his satchel. "Why's that?"

"He's asleep." Callum answered. "We jist need to wake him up an' he can get better."

Arthur shook his head heavily. "Merlin isn't asleep, Callum. He's hurt and confused."

"But he _thinks_ he's asleep, right?" Callum asked with a shrug. "I been watchin' him an' I can tell; he donnae ken when he's dreamin' or livin', an' those people messed 'round in his head until he cannae tell the difference.

"It donnae matter if he's sleeping or not; if _he_ believes he is, then he is. So to fix him we jist have to show him which way is up. I think he can sort the rest out."

"And how do you propose I do that?" Arthur asked, humoring the boy. "I've been trying. He doesn't trust me anymore." It hurt to say it, but it was the truth.

"He thinks ye're a dream." Callum pointed out. "Do _ye_ trust yer dreams?"

 _A pair of entangled, broken bodies lay at the bottom of a cliff._

 _The man that had pushed them off the edge stood at the top, looking down with Arthur's eyes, looking confused as if he didn't understand what he had done._

"Sometimes."

For a few minutes the only sounds were the rattle of nuts in their satchels and the quiet creaking of branches as Callum climbed across them with ease.

"He's goin' home." Callum stated with determined finality. "I'll make sure, this time."

Arthur stopped again and looked up, confused and slightly disconcerted. "What do you mean?"

"I'm stronger now." Callum tied his satchel closed and dropped out of the tree. "Better. An' he's stronger than Pa was. Ye saved me, twice now. An' if ye think 'bout it, ye'd never have been here to do that in the first place if it wasn' for Merlin, so I owe him too. It's my turn, innit?"

"I don't─"

"We gotta go back, afore Mam comes chasin' after us." Callum interrupted, already striding back towards camp.

Arthur just stood and blinked several times before following. "Hold on, what did you mean?"

Callum shrugged. "I wonnae let him die. I'll figure it out. Donnae worry."

 _Great, the kid thinks he can fix this._ A misplaced sense of guilt from his father's death, perhaps? None of this could be easy for a child.

Arthur didn't want to think about what it would do to Callum if Merlin didn't make it.

As if I needed another thing to worry about.

"Found me any apples, laddie?" Gwaine called as they neared the edge of the camp. As one of the few uninjured members of their party he was put on watch more often than not.

Callum snorted. "Even if the forest was nae dead it's too late for apples. Found sommat, though."

"I'll take 'something' over 'nothing' any day." Alymere joined in without looking up from the fire he was stoking.

"Let's see." Gail said, standing up and dusting herself off, leaving Percival where he was leaned against a tree with fresh bandages on his arm.

Callum handed over his satchel and Arthur followed suit.

"Hazels!" Gail exclaimed after checking the contents of the satchel. "Good job. This should last us two days." She quickly turned away and started tucking the nuts into the embers of the fire to roast.

"Hopefully by then we'll have reached the pass." Alymere said.

"If it's even open." Gwaine said pessimistically.

"It will be." Gail assured them. "Lailoken is never wrong."

"Then it will be open." Alymere said simply. "And we will be home free."

Not for the first time, Arthur was struck by the strange amount of trust Alymere put in these sorcerers. Even before Gail had helped them he hadn't seemed afraid or even wary of the magic she wielded. He briefly considered the possibility of an enchantment, but dismissed the idea immediately.

"Cal, why donnae ye fetch a rock or two to crack these shells?" Gail suggested.

Callum gave Merlin a brief glance before wandering off to find a suitable rock.

"He said some strange things." Arthur told her quietly while Callum was distracted. "He thinks he can fix Merlin. He thinks he has to."

Gail nodded. "He's gettin' too close. I've been trying to keep him away, but now that we're out here it's impossible. He damn near tore himself apart after his father..." She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, looking as drained as Arthur felt.

"What was his name? You never said."

Gail sucked in a deep breath and looked away. "Nae. I dinnae, did I? Ye worry 'bout yer friend; I'll worry 'bout my son." She spun away abruptly and walked to where Callum was happily cracking open nuts by the fire and chattering away to Merlin, who was, as usual, not responding in the slightest.

Arthur hung back for a moment, simply observing his party. Something had gone horribly wrong with the group and he had somehow missed it. Alymere kept sending sad, pitying glances towards Merlin; Gwaine wouldn't look at him at all, and seemed to constantly want to sneak back the way they had come; Gail seemed suspicious, even afraid of Merlin at times and would watch him closely every time Callum got too close (though, on closer thought, Arthur realized that she had always done this to an extent) and never leaving them alone together; Percival...well, Percival was in pain and even quieter than usual. He was the most normal one of the bunch.

Oddly enough, he found himself understanding the sorceress's behavior the easiest. Merlin had attacked Arthur with a knife the other day, it was understandable if she didn't want her son spending too much time around him. That, and the strange attachment Callum seemed to have with Merlin lately.

Gwaine, on the other hand, was a whole other barrel of fish. He was one of Merlin's closest friends, and now his jaw tightened and he bristled with quiet rage every time someone mentioned his name, or he woke screaming from a nightmare. Whenever they rode out Merlin sat in front of Arthur on a horse, despite Merlin's violent reaction the day before. Gwaine had adamantly refused to go anywhere near him. It was concerning, to say the least.

Still, it made little difference to Merlin. He hardly seemed aware of what was going on around him in his strange, catatonic state.

Whether or not Callum could do anything to "wake him up," he was right; something had to change. He wanted to deny it, but it was impossible. Merlin was getting worse every passing day, and sooner or later he was going to die. He barely ate, barely moved, and still wouldn't breath properly because of the pain it caused in his broken shoulder. Much longer of this and he would develop lung fever and Arthur couldn't delude himself into believing that he was strong enough to survive that, with or without Gail's weak magic.

He couldn't dare to imagine how he could go home and resume ruling Camelot without him. It wouldn't be the same, wouldn't feel right.

When did I become so dependent on a mere servant? Arthur wondered, watching as Merlin dozed off by the fire.

Probably somewhere between "I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass." and "Clotpole."

Camelot could never be the same without the idiot. It could never quite be home.

Not that Arthur would ever say that out loud.

Arthur picked up a rock and a handful of hot, toasted nuts and sat down between Merlin and Callum, careful not to wake Merlin up. He'd be awake again in an hour or two, screaming from a nightmare; he needed all the rest he could get.

* * *

Arthur was on third watch that night, but barely got ten minutes in before Merlin woke from his second dream of the night with a terrified, pained scream and jerked up out of his blankets, clutching his shoulder and choking on his breath.

The camp woke, but no one moved. They had discovered the hard way that offering comfort or touching Merlin when he was in this state only made things worse. The first time someone had tried Merlin had shook and cried for a full three hours.

So they remained silent as he hyperventilated, glanced around himself, muttered quietly and slowly sank back into his catatonic state. Half an hour later he was drifting back to sleep, and most of the others were either following suit or pretending to.

Arthur saw Callum try to get up, but his mother caught him and pulled him back down. "Chan eil beantuinn dha! Fuirich air falbh, balach." She hissed quietly. Arthur couldn't understand the words, but they had the unmistakable tone of an order─one that Callum obeyed immediately.

Another twenty minutes passed in silence before Gail carefully stood, disentangling herself from her son and joining Arthur where he sat with his back against a tree.

"You already took your watch." Arthur whispered.

Gail nodded and sat down next to him, close enough that their elbows were almost touching. "I need to talk to ye. Merlin cannae make it to the mountains like this, much less all the way to Camelot."

Arthur let out a deep breath between his teeth, smothering the illogical anger he felt towards her for saying what he had been thinking for days. "I know. But there's nothing I can do about it. You said yourself there was nothing to be done to fix his arm."

"And he's too weak to amputate." Gail whispered, nodding again, completely oblivious to Arthur's nausea at the thought. "But there is another option. A bit dangerous and nae wee bit unpleasant."

Arthur straightened, peering at her in the dark. "What is it?"

"Do ye trust me?"

Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated. Did he? Could he? So far she had done next to nothing to cause him any distrust, but it had been proven time and time again that magic was wily and dangerous. "I don't know."

Gail hesitated, too. "Do ye trust magic?"

Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head. "I cannot. I was raised to hate and fear magic. I have nearly died by its touch countless times. It took my mother, my father, my sister, my knights, and now it has taken Merlin as well."

"I understand tha─"

"I _don't_." Arthur interrupted, shaking his head again. "I don't understand it. I've seen magic cause so much hurt. I've seen it kill, maim, destroy entire families, cause famine and pestilence."

He gestured widely at the dead forest around them. "But, evidently, the _absence_ of it causes the same thing! But _magic_ is what caused this absence in the first place; sorcerers whose taste of power poisoned them into addiction until what they had wasn't enough. It made them steal it from others and twist it into something vile. _This_ is what I've always seen magic as an what I believed it to be.

"But I have also seen it bring light, and comfort, and healing. I saw it help Merlin of its own accord, unadulterated by the influence of sorcerers. How can all of this come from the same source? I don't understand it, and I cannot trust what I do not understand."

"Yet ye trust Merlin." Gail whispered. "Despite the things he'll nae say and the war scars on his body."

"That's different. I understand _him_ , who he _is_. I don't need to understand what he does. I've always known he kept secrets, and now he has kept mine under six months of brutal torture. I can do nothing but allow him to keep his."

Gail nodded. "It innae my place to try to change yer beliefs, but I cannae help him if ye donnae trust me. If ye donnae, ye'll try to intervene and if ye intervene the results will be catastrophic."

A chill went down the young king's spine at her dark words and he was suddenly reminded that he was sitting beside and conversing with a sorceress, warrior, and mother; three of the most dangerous adjectives one could apply to a human being.

"What do you plan on doing to him?"

"Nothing without yer say."

"Tell me."

Gail shifted uncomfortably, clearly unhappy with their options. "I could...burn the feeling out of his arm with magic. He'd never be able to move it again, but that innae an issue in this case. He'd never again feel pain or anything else from it if I'm successful."

"He wouldn't feel anything? Is that what the Mirror did to their soldiers?" Arthur asked, suppressing a shudder at the memory of cutting and stabbing at a man who just kept going despite it.

"Unlikely. Rather, near impossible." Gail said. "I can use this spell on Merlin because it is jist his shoulder and arm. Those soldiers were immune to pain everywhere. Using this spell like that would destroy their insides. It would jist be a cruel way to kill a person.

"What they got is likely an enchantment of dark magic. I cannae ken for sure, but I have a couple o' theories. Possibly, the spell is anchored to an object. But if that were the case the enchantment would be weaker, and they would give them to all of their soldiers, but we only saw the spell on some of them. That implies either limited supplies or limited range, leadin' me to believe...an' this wonnae help yer view on magic, but it could be anchored to another person somewhere. Any pain inflicted on the person would be directed back to the anchor."

Arthur flinched in horror as the reality of her words sunk in. Every blow he had landed on one of them..."Could...could Merlin have been one of those anchors?"

Gail didn't answer.

"Gail?" Arthur's voice was a touch louder than he had intended, and she shushed him.

"Aye, that's likely." Arthur felt sick. "But I cannae be sure. As I said, I donnae even ken if that's how they did it. But inflicting pain without damage, forcing him to feel the deaths of others again and again...it would be the perfect way to break a man's mind. If he was aware it was his friends inflicting it...well, that would jist be an added bonus to that lot." The disgust in her voice was palpable.

"But that donnae help us, because I have neither the knowledge or the inclination to try it. What I spoke of is entirely contained to Merlin. There are some risks. To be effective, I'd need to do his entire shoulder. It's awfully close to his spine, throat, lungs, heart. If I lose control, even a wee bit...He could be paralyzed, or unable to breathe. His heart could jist stop."

"How likely is that to happen?" Arthur questioned, trying his hardest to push the new information about Merlin's torture out of his mind for now.

"Depends." Gail shrugged. "If everything goes perfectly, I can do it. I have the control and precision of a surgeon. If sommat interrupts me or I cannae gather enough power..."

Arthur rubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. "You think I might interfere?"

"Well..." Gail whispered hesitantly. "He'll nae feel anything once it's done, but while I'm doin' it, it's gonna hurt. For minutes, at most. But it will feel longer. It...It will burn the whole time, and if I _am_ interrupted somehow or cannae get the magic, the burnin' will nae stop. He'll be stuck that way, and I'm nae likely to be able to start again and finish it. If that happens, ye'll have to kill him."

Arthur shook his head. "You're asking me to hurt him again."

"Torture." She corrected plainly.

Arthur turned away again. Several yards away, Merlin stirred slightly in his sleep and Arthur knew it was the start of yet another nightmare. "Too many people have hurt him."

"Aye." Gail agreed quietly. "And if we donnae do this, we're killing him. It's yer choice, Arthur."

"I need to think about it." Arthur said after yet another long silence, the weight of this decision settling over his shoulders like a ton of bricks.

Gail nodded. "I understand. I had to think a good long while afore even mentioning it to ye. Jist remember that he donnae have forever."

She stood and walked back to her son, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts.

"Sire?" Arthur jumped, ashamed and angry at himself for getting so distracted on watch that Alymere had managed to sneak up on him. He hadn't even realized his watch was nearing its end, he had been so focused on his thoughts.

"Sir Alymere." Arthur greeted.

"I'm here to relieve you."

Arthur nodded. "Can I ask you a question?"

Alymere looked surprised. "Of course."

"You have trusted Gail since the beginning. Even from the first time she used magic, you never doubted her. You were never even a little wary about the magic. Why?"

Alymere shifted nervously. "I..."

"It's alright, Alymere. I will not fault you for anything you say tonight. I only need to make a decision and could use a second opinion."

Alymere hesitated a moment longer before complying. "I grew up in a small village west of Camelot, as you know. Ildridge. My mother was a kind-hearted woman, always baking for sick neighbors and the like. If anyone needed help or cheering, she was there to do it. But in private, when she thought no one could see, there was a deep sadness to her. An emptiness.

"I heard her one night when I was a boy. She thought me and my siblings were sleeping. She was crying, telling my father she couldn't stand it anymore. She said it felt like she had cut off her arm. My father was trying to comfort her. He told her it was better this way, safer for all of us.

"I didn't understand what they spoke of then, but nary a month later my mongrel pet dog died. Stoned by the neighbor boys, who were bigger than I. I loved that beast far more than I ought to, and I was inconsolable.

"My mother...she tried to comfort me. She told me the dog had gone to live in the wind. He would fly over hills and tear through the woods, startling birds and chasing squirrels forever and ever."

Alymere hesitated in his story again. "She whispered some words and pointed to the fire, and I saw him, shaped from the smoke. He looked hale and happy. Bounding over coals and snapping at the sparks. And then he floated up the chimney, free in the wind. It wasn't the first time she had shown me small tricks like this, and I was...enraptured and delighted as always."

Alymere smiled slightly as he reminisced. "My father saw what she had done and he was afraid. He shouted at her, told her it wasn't safe. What if someone saw?

"She shouted back, said that she missed it terribly and he was a cruel husband for keeping her from it.

"He asked her if it was cruel of him to want her to live, and she cried that if this enslavement was life then she didn't want it. He struck her. It was the only time I had ever seen my father discipline my mother so and I was as shocked as she. He apologized and embraced her, but I would remember the incident forever.

"My mother never used magic again. Every day she seemed to die a little bit more. She drew into herself, lost some of that light and kindness that made her so beautiful. My father tried to cheer her, but nothing seemed to work.

"There was...a pyre my thirteenth year. The town smith. My mother took her own life that night."

Yet again, Arthur found himself shocked and horrified into silence. He wondered how many other mothers had quietly withered away because of his father's─or his own─actions.

"I know you learned as a child to hate and fear magic, Sire." Alymere continued softly. "But I learned to hate fear. It wasn't her magic that killed my mother, it was my father's fear. So when I first saw Gail use magic I did not see a sorceress; I saw a mother comforting her son."

Arthur stood. "I am sorry for your loss, Alymere."

Alymere smiled sadly. "I was not the only boy to lose a mother, my lord. My loss was not your fault, nor was it your father's. My mother made her choice, and if that choice was to leave me and join the winds, who am I to question that? I hope my story helped you."

Arthur had been struggling with the morality of the situation, his own selfish desires and doubts in Gail. He realized now that he had been overthinking the situation.

He looked again at Merlin, laid out and broken on his back by the fire. _He'd_ put him there. Merlin had gone into their hands to save _him_. What had he ever done to deserve such sacrifice and pain? He had looked for him, yes, but only found him after five months of chasing his tail. Then he'd forced his mind, his _soul_ into Merlin's without permission. Gone against his wishes and drugged him as he begged to die.

He hadn't been able to let him go, so he'd taken the control out of Merlin's hands and left him a silent, empty shell with no grasp on reality. Was he really any better than _they_ were?

It seemed like, ever since the moment he had found him in that cave his life had been one poor decision after another. Merlin had been getting better, and now it seemed like he never would, and it was directly Arthur's fault.

He had been trying to block such thoughts from his mind. _Of course he would get better. This was Merlin. Last time he'd thought he was going to die he'd found him climbing out of a bog, grinning ear-to-ear and right as rain. He'd be fine._

But that kind of thought wouldn't get them anywhere. Denial, that's what it was. That sense of false optimism was what had led him to make every poor decision for Merlin in the past few weeks. He was an adult, a king─he had to face reality and live in the real world.

And the reality was that Merlin was dying. Merlin was dying and there was nothing Arthur could do to save him, simply because he had no right to save him. Here he was, debating with himself about whether or not he could trust a sorceress to save his friend, but that wasn't the debate he needed to be having.

The answer had been staring him in the face this entire time.

This choice was never his to make. It was Merlin's.

If he wants to die, after everything he has been through for me, I have no right to deny him that. Arthur thought. And if he wants to fight, I have no right to stand in his way. I cannot repay his loyalty by doing anything less. He has never been my enemy; I won't fight him, not even for his life.

He had been worrying so much about all of this responsibility, but the problem was that he never should have made it his responsibility in the first place.

Arthur smiled and clapped Alymere on the shoulder. "You know, I think it did. Thank you, Alymere."

 _Now on to the next problem─getting Merlin to "wake up."_


	22. Chapter XXI

**So, I meant to get this out by Christmas, but then some of my ridiculous and wonderful sibs decided we were going on an impromptu out of state vacation. Roads were tripped, strange tentacled creatures were eaten, snowballs were thrown, and only one person had to get stitches by the end. All in all, I'd call that a win.**

 **Anywho, holy ninja cow, twenty-one chapters already? Here be the stuff y'all have been waiting for...or some of it. I hope you guys had a good Christmas/Hanukkah/New Years/Whatever holiday you're into, or if you're not into that sort of thing then I guess I hope you're...having a good Tuesday? Except you're probably not, because you're a total Grinch. In which case, bah humbug.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter XXI**

Despite his good mood and steadfast determination the previous night, Arthur still had no idea how to get Merlin to snap out of it. He'd tried everything within reason. He had spent the last few hours of travel talking to Merlin, asking him questions, reminding him of past adventures, threatening to fire him, poking, prodding, bribing and begging. He'd even tried pinching him one time, but it did no good.

Eventually Arthur fell silent again and simply walked alongside Merlin's horse, one hand gripping Merlin's forearm to make sure he didn't slide off. Gwaine walked on the other side, ready to catch him if he did, but the knight still refused to touch him otherwise. Merlin was the only one riding anymore. They had long since run out of food for the horses and the meagre roots and sticks they had been chewing for days was not near enough. The animals were weak and starving, and a handful of hazelnuts wasn't going to cut it.

Lost in thought, Arthur began to absently tap out a rhythm on Merlin's arm as he walked, his eyes scanning the landscape the entire time. He had thought maybe a change of scenery would have helped, but they had exited the forest that morning and had spent the last several hours traveling across the highlands─and briefly through an abandoned village─without any sign of improvement. They had found a couple of old ragged blankets and a few other discarded supplies in the village, but no food and no solution to Merlin's affliction.

Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin when, after hours of nothing, Merlin's arm tensed beneath his hand. He looked up at Merlin searchingly, trying to see any hint of recognition in his face. There was nothing, but his hand was fisted tightly in the horse's mane.

Arthur stopped his tapping and, slowly, Merlin's arm went slack again.

Heart pounding with excitement, Arthur hesitantly resumed the rhythm, all the while watching Merlin like a hawk.

Sure enough, Merlin's hand gripped the mane again and, this time, there was a slight furrow in his brow.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked softly, only receiving a reaction from Gwaine, who looked confused. "You in there?"

Merlin didn't answer, but he did seem to be a bit more... _alive_ , so Arthur took that as a good sign and continued his pattern of tapping in silence for the next hour, right up until one of the horses collapsed from starvation.

It was hours until dusk, but they were forced to make camp regardless because they were as starved as the horses and they simply could not afford to leave what little meat remained on the animal's bones to rot.

Percival and Alymere made quick work of the carcass and Callum managed to scrounge up some roots, so by sunset they had a decent stew ready. It was the first real mean any of them had had in days, so no one hesitated to dig into the unfamiliar, tough meat.

As usual, Merlin had to be coaxed into eating, but he did so without complaint. Arthur hated every second of silence from him.

"I've never had horse before." Alymere commented.

"I have." Gwaine said, not to anyone's surprise.

"I had rat stew once." Arthur found himself saying. His chest ached suddenly at the memory, and he set his empty bowl on the ground despondently.

"Why would a king eat a rat?" Callum asked, looking somewhat disgusted and utterly befuddled.

"Merlin said it was pork. Thought I wouldn't be able to tell the difference."

Gail snorted into her stew. "Servant, physician, warrior, and now this? I'd like to meet his mother. Anyone who could raise someone like that is to be commended."

"She is." Arthur said shortly, looking at Merlin dozing beside him, completely oblivious to their conversation. Could Hunith get through to him? He dismissed the idea reluctantly─Merlin wouldn't make it that long. Already he had a low but steadily rising fever. At this rate, if something wasn't done, he wouldn't last the week. He was fading before their eyes. Every day he looked greyer and thinner.

Arthur stood and tucked the blankets securely around Merlin's shoulders as Percival rose on the opposite side of the campfire and threw another log on. Though the air remained dry, it was beginning to get cold enough at night to cause concern, especially with Merlin being so weak and a child in their party.

Visible in the distance the mountains were only a day and a half's ride south, snowcapped and daunting. Not far beyond those mountains lay familiar lands, warm beds and _family._ If they could just make it that far...

Arthur found himself doubting again whether Lailoken had spoken the truth about the pass. What was he thinking, putting his trust in a senile old sorcerer again?

"You know, Merlin, if you keep this up Gaius is going to be very angry with me when we get back." Arthur said conversationally as he tossed another blanket over Merlin.

Merlin, as usual, didn't respond.

Arthur sighed, feeling heavy with disappointment. He rested a hand briefly on Merlin's good shoulder and barely allowed the words " _I miss you_ ," to brush soundlessly across his lips.

* * *

He couldn't remember a nightmare, but Arthur woke sweating and uneasy. He lay still, heart pounding, and listened for sounds of attack or distress. There was nothing to be heard aside from a faint snap of the fire and his party's breathing. All seemed peaceful.

He sat up and glanced around the camp until he spotted Alymere sitting awake. He was on last watch, so it must be nearly dawn. Alymere seemed distracted by something, which in and of itself was troubling; the knight was never one to neglect his duties.

Arthur followed Alymere's gaze to Merlin, who appeared to be sleeping fairly peacefully.

The only truly odd thing about the sight was Callum, sleeping curled against Merlin's side as if for warmth.

"Alymere." Arthur whispered, making the knight jump slightly. He nodded to the sleeping pair. "What's this?"

Alymere shrugged helplessly. "The boy got up not ten minutes ago, like he hadn't been sleeping." Alymere whispered back. "Merlin had been starting to stir, but Callum lay down next to him and fell asleep almost in an instant. Merlin seemed calmed by it, so I saw no harm. It is odd, though."

Arthur frowned, wondering if this had anything to do with what Callum had said in the woods earlier. Was he trying to fix Merlin by soothing the nightmares? Arthur didn't think it likely to do any good in the long run, but it did seem to be some sort of improvement. Any time anyone else had tried touching Merlin during one of his nightmares he had lashed out, not relaxed.

Arthur stood quietly and folded the thin blanket he had been using. He doubted he'd be able to get back to sleep.

He stepped closer to Merlin and Callum, peering down at them in the dark and wondering if he should wake Gail.

Merlin stiffened in his sleep and Callum let out a soft gasp, curling closer to Merlin and gripping his left arm tightly.

Arthur turned away, intent on waking Gail and making her deal with the situation, only to whip back around when the two of the, as one, woke screaming and flew apart.

Callum barrelled past Arthur and into Gail's arms even as she was lurching upright in a panic, and Merlin stumbled in the opposite direction, hindered by the tangle of blankets.

"What the hell was that?" Arthur demanded over the sound of the confusedly waking camp, the hysterically sobbing child and Merlin's harsh breathing.

Gail glared at Arthur over Callum's head as she held him to her chest and rubbed his back soothingly. The boy was crying something into her shoulder, but not in any language Arthur understood. "It's alright, it's alright, ye wee daft numpty." She whispered into his ear as she rocked him back and forth, her voice choked.

Arthur, feeling terribly divided, turned back to Merlin and chose to focus his attention there, and his heart stuttered at what he saw.

Merlin, tripping his way out of his blankets, was pacing like a desperate, caged animal. His hand was fisted in his hair and he was shaking violently as he muttered under his breath, eyes darting around the camp as if he was expecting someone to attack him at any second.

 _You really shouldn't be so happy about this._ Arthur told himself as he took a step towards Merlin.

Merlin flinched away and Arthur caught his heart leaping for joy. It was a direct reaction to something in front of him─something they hadn't seen in days. Terrified though he may be, that had to be progress...right?

"Merlin?" Arthur whispered hopefully, ignoring the knights' voices behind him. "Come on, you idiot, look at me. _Please_." He couldn't even be bothered at this point to be embarrassed by the blatant desperation in the last word.

Merlin's breath hitched painfully but his eyes met Arthur's, though only briefly before he looked away, shaking his head. "You're not real. Not real." He muttered, his tone more that of a man in denial than that of one who adamantly believed in what he was saying.

" _I can't keep doing this_ , I don't know how, I _can't_." His words began to run together hysterically and he twisted at his hair harder.

"Yes you can." Arthur argued petulantly, unable to stop the grin that was spreading across his face. "Look at me."

Merlin did the opposite, and turned away, bowing his thin shoulders and kneading his fist roughly against his forehead. "I didn't ask for this."

"I know. Of course you didn't."

"Arthur?" Gwaine interrupted. "Is he _talking_?"

Arthur held up a hand to silence the knight and carefully took another step towards Merlin. "Merlin, do you know where you are?"

" _No_." Merlin moaned. "I thought I was here and then I was there and _nothing makes sense_."

A familiar pang of guilt stabbed at Arthur's stomach. "I know. That was my fault, and I'm sorry. I promise that won't happen again. You're safe now, we're going home."

Merlin let out another sob, followed by a hollow, desperate-sounding keening.

"Talk to me, Merlin." Arthur pressed gently. "Tell me what's happening. Why...What do you need? Just tell me so we can help you."

"I was _there_." Merlin sobbed, shaking his head. He turned around to face Arthur, his eyes wet with tears. "I don't understand, I was _there_ and it was _real_ and you were all a dream and you were _here_. But then you were there, too, and _there_ was a dream and I need something to be real, Arthur! _That's_ what I need!"

Merlin's voice was rising to a shout, straining his damaged vocal cords, but he continued anyway. "I need to _know_ , but they tore me up and I lost... I know you're you because I can feel it but I don't know you're _real_ because you don't make sense anymore! You changed, Arthur, why did you change?"

Merlin sank to his knees and Arthur followed suit, sitting inches away but too wary to touch Merlin. "You left." He answered honestly before he could stop himself, and detesting how lost he sounded. "You were gone and I didn't know what to do."

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and hunched in on himself, struggling to contain his gut-wrenching sobs. Arthur finally managed to suck it up and reached out. When Merlin didn't flinch away from his touch Arthur, emboldened, grasped the back of Merlin's head and gently drew it forward, pressing his forehead against his own.

"Listen to me, Merlin." He whispered. "I want you to trust me. I know I haven't been a good friend but I promise to be a good king. I will get you home, you _will_ see Gaius again. You _will_ be protected. I owe you that."

"It's too late. They ruined it, I can't go home and...and you won't _want_ me and it's all my fault and Albion's broken...I _lost it_ , Arthur." Arthur didn't truly understand the words, but the despair in Merlin's voice broke his heart.

"You have earned your place in Camelot." Arthur assured him softly. "It will always be your home."

" _No_ , they showed me what happened, and I _needed_ it to be a dream but you _weren't_. They took it from me and it was all I had."

"I don't know how to fix this." Arthur murmured. " _Please_ , tell me how I can fix this? I don't understand."

Merlin, who always had the answers in the past, just shook his head and sobbed quietly.

"What just happened?" Arthur heard Percival ask softly. "Callum did something, didn't he?"

"And if he did?" Gail snapped protectively. Anyone could hear the unspoken threat and blatant aggression in her voice.

Arthur stayed by Merlin, but his mind slowly started to put the pieces together. Gail was on the defensive, prepared and possibly _expecting_ to have to fight for her son. His mind quickly went through the possibilities before settling on the most likely.

"It was magic." He said, turning his head to look at Gail, who was still holding her son tightly to her breast.

"I donnae ken what ye're talking about." Gail said coldly, her grip tightening.

"That's why you didn't want him near Merlin. You _knew_ he was going to do...whatever he just did." Merlin's breath hitched and Arthur reflexively put his hand back on his shoulder, surprised at just how _tense_ he was.

"He jist wants to _help_." Gail defended.

" _How_."

"I donnae understand it. Thanks to ye and yer _father_ magical education and information is hard to come by."

Arthur huffed in frustration. " _That_ again."

Gail scoffed. "Aye, _that_." She snapped virulently. "The wee thing about _genocide_ and a lifetime of prejudice. Ye think the Purge only affected Camelot? Ye think that, because magic innae _illegal_ here that it's embraced? Wake up, Pendragon! We are left to fend for ourselves out here, an' when a child starts displaying strange powers we've got nae one to go to, nowhere to go!"

"You should have told me he had magic. You lied to me."

"Arthur, I donnae tell _anyone_ he has magic, not even my neighbors! Why would I tell a Pendragon? Even with as much caution as I could manage, the Mirror found him.

"Our kind are viewed with hatred at worst, distrust at best, and no matter how hard we try to be fair and good we are _stoned in the streets_ the second anything goes wrong!" Gail shouted. "Ye think I wanted _my son_ to be a part of this life? I prayed every day he'd never use magic, an' when he started, aye, I hid it best I could!"

"Why did you not try to stop him?"

"Stop him?" Gail laughed bitterly. "I'd have to kill him. It's who he _is_ , Arthur. The magic of his soul speaks to that of others, an' they call to him, allowin' him to slip into a willing person's dreams. He innae hurtin' anyone─"

"What do you call this?" Arthur gestured at Merlin's huddled, shaking form.

"He was tryin' to help!" Gail said, stroking Callum's hair. "Think about it, Arthur! With Merlin the way he is, with his walls down, Callum could feel it comin' off him in waves. Merlin's soul was practically screaming for help; he could nae ignore that, nae matter how many times I told him to."

"If there is really no harm in it why did you keep it a secret? Why did you try to keep him from it?"

Gail gestured at everything around them. "Because of _this_! Because you are a _Pendragon_ , and because he is a child! I cannae say what is in Merlin's mind, but it innae anythin' I want my son gettin' _anywhere near_! He's only ever been in my dreams and his friend's. It's safe there. The dreams of a child are nothin' compared to _his_!"

Merlin suddenly interrupted, clutching at Arthur's wrist with his bony hand. "Arthur, don't..." He whispered brokenly.

Arthur's heart clenched at the thought of someone so young experiencing even a taste of what Merlin had and the thought tempered his anger. "I won't punish him for this, Gail." He said softly. "How could I? But I need to know you aren't holding any other secrets from me if I am to trust you with Merlin's─ _all_ of our lives."

"Everyone has their secrets, Arthur." Gail said, shaking her head and pausing to whisper something in Callum's ear. "But I've nae others that could get in yer way."

Arthur met her gaze for a long minute, searching for any hint of deception. "Good."

Merlin instantly relaxed under his touch, so much that Arthur had to catch him before he collapsed in a boneless heap.

"That's it?" Gwaine cut in. "For a minute there I was expecting bloodshed."

Arthur glared at him before carefully laying Merlin down and draping the recently discarded blankets back over him. "You alright, Merlin?"

Merlin shook his head silently, still trying to catch his breath, and Arthur found himself resolving to thank Callum when the still-hysterical boy calmed down. Yesterday they had all been losing hope that Merlin would ever respond to them again. This may not be the response he had been wanting, but _anything_ was better than the silence.

Even if the idea of someone stepping into someone else's dreams was unnerving, to say the least.

"Pack it up. I don't think any of us will be getting much sleep after this, and the sun will be up soon anyway." Arthur ordered, not taking his eyes off of Merlin as the knights bustled around their campsite.

* * *

It wasn't until midday and the mountains were looming ever closer, capped with snow and making Arthur once again doubt Lailoken's prophecy that Arthur figured it out.

"Hold on," Arthur said, interrupting a conversation between Percival and Gwaine and looking over his shoulder at Gail as an idea struck him. "This...power of his. The dreaming thing."

"He calls it dreamwalking." Gail answered tiredly, trudging along with Callum dozing on her back, his curly head resting on her shoulder. "'Like sleepwalking but in my head.' he says."

"He's the Dreamer."

Gail raised her head and cocked a dark eyebrow. "I donnae follow."

Arthur's brow furrowed in thought as he stared at Gail, who grew more and more unnerved.

 _Magic, Courage, Strength, Kindness, Dreamer, Legacy._

If The Dreamer was Callum, then it stood to reason the others could be people as well. Could Magic be Gail? No; he may be beginning to trust her, but there was no way she would be his right hand.

" _You must be Courage."_

The memory hit Arthur like a ton of bricks, and he kicked himself for not realizing it before. He had thought the words had sounded familiar, and now he knew why.

" _There are two more things you'll need to complete your quest: Strength and Magic."_

" _I don't condone the use of magic."_

At the time he had assumed that Strength and Magic were attributes or things, and after getting through the quest without the use of magic, dismissed it as nonsense, but now? The prophecy clearly implied that they were people, and the only people who had...

"Bloody hell." Arthur abruptly cursed, shooting to his feet and startling those around him, except for Merlin, who appeared to be counting clouds as if he'd never seen one before.

"Sire?" Alymere asked.

Arthur found himself staring at the arrested travelers like a gobsmacked, gaping idiot.

 _If Magic is a person..._

"Gwaine." Arthur barked, trying to force at least a semblance of outer control onto himself. "A word."

Without explanation he caught the knight by the elbow and dragged him a few yards away, out of earshot. Gwaine protested, glancing back at the rest of his companions as if for assistance. No one seemed inclined to give it, but Alymere offered a bewildered shrug.

"Grettir." Arthur hissed shortly. "What did he say to you?"

Gwaine's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who?"

"The short man at the bridge."

"I thought we weren't supposed to talk about that."

" _Gwaine_."

Gwaine threw up his hands in surrender. "Not much. Seemed happy to see me. Said the trio was complete, turned my sword into a flower and sent me on my way. Merlin talked to him longer."

"Was there anything else?" Arthur pressed. "Did he call you anything?"

"Uh...actually, I think he did. Strength, I think it was. I thought he was mocking me."

Arthur took a step back and stared at Merlin, who had noticed Arthur's behavior and was staring back with concern.

"Shit."

"Pardon?"

"What? Yes─I mean, nothing. Maybe. Uh..." Arthur blinked at Merlin in shock, and Merlin just kept staring back as if looking right through him.

Arthur abruptly turned on his heel and stumbled away from the others, leaving Gwaine standing bewildered behind him. He heard someone calling to him and barely managed some sort of reply before the cacophony of thoughts in his head drowned out the rest of the world.

 _Magic._

 _Merlin._

All those times Merlin had said something strange and profound, all the times they had faced impossible situations only for Merlin to come up with a solution, all the times he had known something before everyone else, the way Merlin had been able to instinctively latch onto Arthur's soul and create the bridge when Arthur had slipped, the times he had come back from battles without a scratch, the _funny feelings_ , the strange air of mystery about him that everyone seemed to just dismiss because it was _Merlin_...

He'd known about Agravaine's betrayal, had apologized for the dragon as if he'd somehow should have been able to stop it, spoken strangely wise words about destiny, known before anyone about the goblin, Valiant, the troll...

Hell, it even explained what kind of information the Mirror had wanted from him!

Arthur felt an utter fool. It was so obvious. How could he have not seen it before? The answer was staring him right in the face.

Well, the time for denial was long passed. All the evidence pointed to one thing.

Merlin was psychic.

* * *

 _ **Badum-tsss.**_

 **Sorry.**

 **(Not really.)**


	23. Chapter XXII

**_*Slowly crawls out from under_ rock* Hello? Anyone still reading? So, I know I promised some of you I'd start trying to get out two updates a month, and I _was_ intending to, but, quite frankly, 2017 is a mess. One thing led to another in _very_ quick succession, leaving me with 85 hour work weeks, insurance to obtain, a new Dr. to find before I run out of meds and die, a household to run, and college to plan. Then two of my childhood pets randomly died the same week as each other, and _someone who won't be named_ crashed us into a tree and totaled our car.**

 **So, basically, my life is stupid, and here I am making excuses again. Anyway, it's about five months late, but here it is. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

 **Chapter XXII**

 _He lay on the bank of a lake, eyes closed, simply listening to the sounds of the birds in the trees, smelling roses in the breeze, and simply being. It was as peaceful a feeling as he could ever remember._

 _"Wake up." A sweet voice whispered in his ear._

 _He smiled and opened his eyes, turning his head to look at her face. Warm brown eyes met his and he grinned. Barefoot, in an old dress, face smudged with dirt...She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen._

 _"I'm awake."_

 _"We need to go over the mountains today."_

 _"Why? Can't we just stay here?"_

 _She swatted him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't be silly. The cows have run off and we need to get them back."_

 _"That's alright," He said, catching her hand and pulling her down for a kiss. "I'll get you new ones."_

 _She pulled away, but only a few inches, so her dark hair tickled his cheeks. She shook her head, eyes twinkling. "I need those cows to find Emrys with."_

 _"Why doesn't he just come to us?" He groaned petulantly._

 _"Maybe he's afraid of you."_

 _"Maybe he's an idiot, and he's just late. As usual."_

 _"Quite so," She conceded. "But at the very least, we still need to get those cows, or what are we going to feed the knights for dinner?"_

 _He sighed theatrically, rolled over and stood, reaching down after to help her up._

 _When they were both standing, he drew her hand up in both of his and kissed it. "Anything for you, my Lady."_

 _He released her hand, leaving a single red rosebud cupped in her delicate palm._

* * *

Arthur blinked awake slowly, and for a moment he thought he was still at the lake by the mountains. But the ground beneath him was hard and cold, not the soft, slightly damp dirt one would find by a lake.

With a start he realized that he had just been dreaming about a woman who was not his wife. Where had that even come from, anyway? It was so ridiculous that it had to have been a dream, not another one of Merlin's accidentally stolen memories that lurked in hidden corners of his brain.

But that girl...he had felt strong affection towards her─love, even─yet he had never seen her before in his life. Despite knowing it was just a dream, Arthur felt a stab of guilt for the feelings the dream had left him with, even though he knew those feelings weren't his. Could they have been Merlin's? If so, who was the girl and why had he never met her before?

 _Gaah, what does it matter now? It was just a dream._

Arthur rolled over under his cloak and sighed, blinking sleepily at the camp. Percival snored just a few feet away, Callum was curled tightly against his mother under their shared blanket, and Alymere was just a shadowed lump just outside of the light. Near the entrance of the cave Gwaine sat awake, staring out at the empty highlands behind them.

 _Wait, where's Merlin?_

Arthur bolted upright and surged forward, tripping over his cloak in his still half-asleep and now panicked state. "Where's Merlin?" Arthur demanded, ready to shake the answer out of Gwaine and murder him if he had lost him.

Gwaine simply looked up, unconcerned, and pointed to a pile of boulders and dirt outside the cave. "He's just been sitting there. About twenty minutes now. Didn't say a word to me, just got up and walked out."

Arthur squinted in the dark and was just barely able to make out Merlin's narrow shape sitting against the rocks, knees drawn up and head tipped back. His heart immediately began to slow into a more reasonable rhythm.

"Idiot." He grumbled under his breath, gathering up his cloak and taking a step towards Merlin. He paused, then turned and grabbed Merlin's blanket as well before stomping out.

Merlin didn't look up at him as he approached, but Arthur knew that he wasn't unaware of his presence. He seemed entirely focused on the sky above him. He probably had a terrible crick in his neck.

"What are you doing out here?" Arthur whispered. "It's freezing." He dropped the blanket around Merlin's shoulders, then dropped himself to the ground on Merlin's left, tugging his own cloak more tightly around him.

"The stars." Merlin murmured. "I never...never thought I would see them again."

"Oh." Arthur craned his head back and stared up at the sky and the trillions of tiny twinkling lights. The moon was barely a crescent and there were only a few wispy clouds to block their view. After days of grey skies it was as if they had opened up just for Merlin and his newfound ability to appreciate them.

Upon closer examination, Arthur realized that the notion wasn't actually that far-fetched, all things considered.

Or maybe it was just the weather.

All of this business had made him paranoid.

"I used to watch them with my mother when I was little if I couldn't sleep. Some nights they would shoot across the sky, and my mother would give them names and tell stories about where they were going. She said..." Merlin trailed off, and Arthur wondered if he was trying to find words, or maybe distracted by something.

"I forgot what they looked like." Merlin changed the topic abruptly. "I'm not sure when, but I did."

Arthur looked away from the stars then, but Merlin didn't. Arthur drew his knees up, mirroring Merlin's position, and said nothing. This was the most he had heard Merlin say at once in days and he wasn't going to interrupt it.

"I forgot a lot of things." Merlin mumbled after several long minutes. Arthur saw a tear glinting in the corner of his dead eye. "Gaius's chambers, Gwen's face, my Mother's voice, what Camelot looks like when we're returning from a trip and it's cold and there's fog covering everything, but the sun is setting and from the hill it looks like it's being lit up in gold. I still can't quite remember. I just remember that I loved those things."

Merlin let out a choked snort that almost could have been something like a laugh. "I forgot my own name. They never used it, so it just...I only remembered when you said it. It was the first thing that made me wonder if maybe you were real. It took me a while to realize it was _my_ name you were saying. I thought maybe you were talking to someone else.

"I don't know...how much I've lost that I don't even realize is gone. I hid some things, too. Forgot them on purpose so they couldn't get to them. Sometimes because I wanted to protect it from them, sometimes because I just didn't want them.

"And I don't know if I can get them back." Merlin's voice cracked hopelessly and he rested the back of his head on the stone behind him, still staring up at the stars. "I don't know if they're gone forever or just hidden away. Sometimes something will remind me and it will come back, but then sometimes it goes again and there are places that just feel like...like something's _missing_ and I don't know how to get it back. I don't know how to get _me_ back.

"Arthur...I forgot how to _live_." Merlin's voice dropped into a harsh whisper. "How can I remember how to be a person again?"

Arthur _really_ didn't feel like he was the right person to be having this conversation, but he didn't see anyone else around to do it. What could he say in response to that?

"I have no idea, Merlin." He said in a single gust of air that puffed in a cloud in front of his face. "I think only you can figure that out." I _certainly can't. I barely even know who you were, much less who you are now._

Merlin sighed and dropped his head down to rest on top of his knees, and Arthur looked back up at the stars. He had always disregarded them before─something that was always there, but not something he could understand. Like air.

Or magic.

Merlin sighed heavily. "I can't think. My head is scattered and I can't put it back together. Gail's plan. It should work. I want to risk it."

"What?" Arthur blinked, confused at the seemingly abrupt subject change.

"My arm." Merlin replied evenly. "It never stops hurting. I can't focus on anything, can't...see straight. Don't know what's real."

 _How did he_...? Psychic.

"I heard you talking." Merlin said, interrupting Arthur's thoughts as if he had heard them. "I thought I was asleep but I wasn't. Tomorrow morning, I think."

Arthur could only stare, speechless, for a long minute. Merlin was sitting beside him, watching the stars and calmly planning his own impending torture. Arthur had been worrying about how to broach the subject with him, but it seemed that was unnecessary.

"Are you sure you want to do this? It won't be pleasant."

"I need to figure things out or I'll go mad." Merlin said as calmly as one would make a comment on the weather. "And...I've had worse."

Arthur was quiet for several more minutes, wondering again if Merlin already was mad. "I don't know how to solve this for you, but you won't have to figure it out alone." He said quietly.

Merlin raised his head and looked left; Arthur lowered his and looked right, meeting his questioning gaze.

"We've always managed to get through everything else by the skin of our teeth." Arthur explained. "If we can get through this, too, do you know what that means?"

"What?"

Arthur grinned and nudged Merlin's side gently with his elbow. "We're invincible."

Merlin snorted in derision and rolled his eyes, and Arthur found himself feeling far happier than he should have because of it. A touch of normality. "No one is invincible, Arthur."

"Untouchable, then." Arthur pressed, undeterred. "What could be worse than all this mess? The very land is in peril!"

" _Arthur_!" Merlin hissed. "You can't _say_ things like that!"

"That's not how curses work, Merlin."

"How would you know?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

Merlin didn't look like he was listening anymore. "It's glowing."

"Do you even try to make sense anymore?" Arthur threw up his hands in mock exasperation.

"Unless I'm seeing things again."

"Merlin, what are you talking about?"

Merlin pointed over Arthur's shoulder. "The mountains."

* * *

Arthur shifted so he could turn and see and, sure enough, the mountains were glowing with orange, flickering light. A massive column of smoke rose above it, like the whole pass had been set alight.

By the time the rest of the camp woke at dawn the strange fire had gone out, but there were great white clouds of steam hovering over the mountains. None of them had ever seen anything like it.

After much deliberation and several confused and suspicious looks from Gwaine, Arthur had sent the knights and Callum away to refill their water skins from a narrow river in a valley they had spotted about a kilometer away. Gail hadn't been happy about letting her son walk away without her, but from their spot on the hill they could easily see the valley and most of the journey between, and she had agreed that what they were about to do shouldn't have an audience.

Besides, it had been Merlin's request, and he got the final say in this matter.

The remaining trio watched their friends leave in silence, and the further they got the tighter the knot in Arthur's stomach became. The plan had seemed so simple this morning but now, as he waited for the knights to get out of earshot so they _wouldn't hear Merlin screaming_ , this whole thing seemed like a terrible idea.

"Are ye ready?" Gail asked quietly, breaking Arthur from his thoughts.

 _Ready to burn Merlin with magic? No, nonononono I'm not._

"Yes." Merlin rasped, sounding perfectly relaxed about all of this and making Arthur question whether he fully understood what was going to happen. But he had to; Gail had clearly and honestly spelled it out for him right after the others had left.

"Alright." Gail glanced between him and Arthur, looking almost as nervous as Arthur felt. "Now, remember; I cannae stop in the middle. Nae matter what, we have to see this through."

Merlin and Arthur both nodded, and Arthur clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly in a vain attempt to calm himself.

"Good. Arthur, I need ye to restrain him."

Arthur's head snapped up at that. "What? Why?"

"Because if he moves I might get sommat I shouldn'."

Arthur shuddered at the image of Merlin becoming paralyzed, or his lungs shutting down and leaving to gasp and suffocate. "Right."

After briefly considering his options, he settled for sitting on the ground behind Merlin, arms wrapped gingerly around Merlin's torso, pinning his arms to his chest.

"Ye're gonna have to hold him tighter than that." Gail ordered.

"It's okay." Merlin murmured when Arthur hesitated. "I'm not gonna break."

"You're already broken; that's the problem." Arthur snapped, his anxiety coming out in his voice. But he took a breath and tightened his grip anyway, eliciting a near-silent grunt of pain from Merlin.

"Sorry."

"'M fine," Merlin gasped breathlessly, barely failing to keep the pain out of his voice. Arthur wouldn't admit it, but he was impressed. "But... _not a word_ about...this to...Gwaine."

Arthur snorted. Merlin joking was a good sign, even if it was obviously just an attempt to make Arthur feel better. "Of course."

"Idjits." Gail muttered. "Alright, last chance to back out."

"Nuh-uh." Merlin grunted, and Arthur felt him brace himself as Gail gently placed her hand on his right wrist.

Gail met Arthur's gaze and he nodded, digging his boot heels into the ground and clenching his jaw.

 _Here goes nothing._

 _Gods, my father is rolling in his grave right now_.

" _Acéocian grápung bánwærc_..." Gail began, her green eyes turning to gold as she turned her attention away from Arthur to her patient.

Merlin immediately stiffened, pressing against Arthur's chest and throwing his head back onto his shoulder. Arthur squeezed him hard, no longer caring about hurting his arm as Gail's hand began to move slowly up it.

"... _ádéadae forbrocen gebæne_..."

Merlin lasted twelve seconds before the first scream. It was five more seconds before he started bucking, and it took all of Arthur's strength to hold him still, despite Merlin's wasted muscles.

When Merlin kept screaming Arthur started running a continuous litany of apologies in his head. He wanted to say them aloud, but he had somehow lost his voice. All he could do was hold him tighter and pretend that the wetness he could feel running down his cheeks into Merlin's hair wasn't tears.

Merlin lost his voice long before Arthur regained his, and it wasn't long after that he began to lose his strength. His struggles became weaker and weaker, so that by the time Gail's hand had traveled from his hand to the shattered bones in his shoulder, he was reduced to feeble shudders and twitches.

Finally, after what had seemed like an hour, Gail's chanting slowed, then stopped completely. The gold faded from her eyes and she closed them, letting out a stuttering breath. All three of them were shaking, and no one moved or said a word for several minutes.

Gail was the first to move. She stood unsteadily and stumbled away several feet before stopping, hands on her knees, to dry-heave into the dead grass; they had all wisely abstained from breakfast that morning.

Arthur still didn't move, but Merlin's gasping breaths and trembling limbs were starting to calm him down. He was still breathing, and he was still moving, leaving two of his biggest concerns about all of this out of the picture.

Gail silently composed herself, then began collecting firewood like nothing had happened.

"Did...Did it work?" Arthur finally asked, his voice sounding strange and thick in the tense quiet.

"Perfectly." Gail answered, stacking the logs and efficiently starting a fire. "It may not have looked like it, but it went as well as we could hope. Better."

Arthur never wanted to see what that spell gone _wrong_ looked like.

"Merlin?"

Merlin's hand reached up and grabbed Arthur's wrist. It was shaking violently and his palm was sweaty, but he squeezed Arthur's wrist reassuringly anyway. Arthur took that to mean that he was rattled, but would be okay.

 _Please be okay._

* * *

By the time they reached the pass at noon later that day the strange fire had long since gone out. The ground was dry and warm, and their feet crunched softly in the charred ground. They led their horses through in silence, every one of them staring around at the scorched stone in bewilderment.

Everything in sight had been burnt to a crisp, even thirty feet up the mountainsides above their heads. The air felt bone-dry and smelled of smoke. Even the stone under their feet had been melted into a smooth, black, glass-like surface.

Callum ran his hands along one of the stones beside him, smearing the soot onto his fingers. "It's still warm."

Indeed, sheltered from the wind by the mountains and warmed by the stone that still radiated heat, they hardly needed their cloaks. The effect was surprisingly pleasant.

"It's like someone cleared it just for us." Gwaine commented.

"Emrys." Gail said with quiet awe. "It has to be."

Arthur glanced over his shoulder at Merlin, who was looking up at the peaks of the mountains─or perhaps the sky─with a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth. It was the sort one got when one knew a secret no one else did, and not one of true happiness or even contentment, but it was the first one Arthur had seen in weeks and the most genuine one in months, so he was grateful for it. He still hadn't said a word since that morning, but he clearly wasn't shutting the world out again.

Baby steps.

"How could one man do all this in one night?" Percival wondered out loud. "These stones must have been heated clear through to still be so warm, and there must have been tons of snow. He didn't just melt it; he dried it. And with the land weakened, no less."

Gail nodded. "I told ye; Legend says Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer ever to live. He could probably have leveled the mountains if he wanted."

Arthur caught Merlin rolling his eyes, but he was sure he was the only one to see.

"In any case," Arthur cut in, turning back south. "The pass is clear and heated, just for us. We had best make use of it."

"Quickly." Gwaine agreed. "Warm or not, this place gives me the creeps."

"This is what gives you the creeps?" Alymere asked incredulously. "After everything back there?"

"I never said that bloody place didn't. I'm just eager to be rid of it all." Gwaine sniffed.

"We all are." Alymere said, clambering over a large rock in the path and pausing to make sure the horse he was leading made it over without slipping.

Callum climbed onto it with much greater ease than the horse, and used his newfound height to quickly slap a sooty handprint onto Gwaine's cheek, then scramble away, hooting with laughter. Gwaine touched his cheek in confusion, looked at his grey-smudged fingers, then promptly gave chase with a shouted "Oi!" leaving Alymere and Gail laughing at his back.

To Arthur's surprise, he found himself disagreeing with Gwaine. He wasn't surprised because he was disagreeing with Gwaine (everyone did that, and with regularity), but rather because he didn't feel uncomfortable with this place at all. Rather, the smoky air and charred ground seemed to be whispering " _Welcome back_ ," like a grey glass carpet rolled out to lead them home.

Of course "home" was still many miles away and the welcome wagon seemed to have vanished without a word, but the sentiment was clear. Someone wanted them to get home safely.

And for that, Arthur was grateful.

* * *

They set up camp on the south end of the pass among leafless, sick, but _living_ trees. Gail lit their campfire with one easy word and a wide grin, clearly happy to be able to do so so easily. Callum whooped with excitement and Merlin glanced between Arthur and Gail curiously.

Merlin frowned in confusion, as if trying to figure something out, but he still said nothing. Arthur wondered if it was because his throat was still sore or if it was something else.

Regardless, Merlin seemed too exhausted to worry about it for long and soon fell asleep. Callum followed his example, but thankfully at the opposite end of the camp.

Gail stood, stepped away from the fire and took Arthur aside once again. "Arthur..." She began, looking serious. "I cannae go much further with ye."

Arthur frowned in surprise. "Why?"

Gail looked at him like he was an idiot. "I cannae bring Callum to Camelot. I cannae live in a land, nor force my son to live where it is is illegal to do so. I cannae ask him to hide who he is and live a lie.

"I appreciate what ye've done for him, but the law is the law and we would not be welcomed there. And..." Gail shook her head hopelessly. "I'm jist _tired_. Tired of hidin' and fearin'."

Arthur looked at the boy who, knowing full well what was done to children like him in Arthur's kingdom, had selflessly used magic to try to help Merlin. And _Merlin_ , his loyal servant and friend, who had apparently been keeping secrets and lying for years in fear of what could happen if Arthur ever learned the truth. He knew Merlin knew who Emrys was, and he had seen what the secrets had done to him.

"Maybe it's time the laws changed."

"What?" Gail asked. "Ye cannae jist _change the law_. It's been there for decades!"

"Can't I?" Arthur asked, surprised at how excited he felt with the idea. "Who can, then? I'm the King, after all."

"Ye...Ye'd do that for me?"

"No." Arthur answered. "I'd do it for you, your son, Merlin, and everyone else who has been hurt by this law. My wife, my sister, my knights, my people...I used to believe I was doing the right thing, following my father's rule. My father believed that he was protecting the people by banning magic, and he was. He was protecting those without magic, the majority."

Arthur paused, struggling with the words he needed to convey his thoughts. "Magic is surely dangerous. It is mysterious and confusing." He nodded towards Merlin. "It can hurt and heal, even simultaneously. It could tear my kingdom down. That is a fact I cannot overlook.

"But danger does not equate evil, and I can see now that this law, while it does offer some protection, it also breeds fear and hate, which in turn breed anger and revenge. All these years I have been protecting some of my people but condemning the rest.

"I have dreamed of a land where _all_ are protected and offered a chance to feel safe, offered a chance for freedom and greatness. I thought allowing commoners the opportunity to earn knighthood and nobility was enough, but that was only the first step. I love Camelot, but I know that it is not yet the world I want to build. It will take time, but I _will_ see this dream fulfilled. Merlin believed in it. Apparently the druids believe in it, too. It's about time I did."

Gail stared at him in shock, and Arthur found himself inordinately pleased with himself for rendering her speechless.

He waited a moment longer and, when nothing happened, cleared his throat. "Are you alright?"

Gail shook her head. "It cannae be that easy. Surely. I've waited... _decades_...I thought─"

"Of course it won't be easy." Arthur said. "It will take time. The council will take some convincing. There could be riots. But it has to be done, and I dare say it will be a good deal more pleasant than the purge was.

"There would still need to be rules. Perhaps a license system? Some way to test a sorcerer's level of control to be sure they could be trusted to use their power in public without accidentally burning the city down." He thought out loud.

Gail was still shaking her head. "Wha─" She sputtered. "They'd never...After so long, they would believe it to be a trick. A way to lure them in like lambs to slaughter."

Arthur nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. "Which is why I would need someone who believed me to register first. If they see others do it they will begin to believe."

"How─Wait, ye mean me?" Gail stammered. "I cannae─My son...he'd be made a target."

"Your son," Arthur said emphasising his words carefully. "Just saved Merlin's life. Do you think he would not be granted protection?"

"I..." Gail shook her head. "Ye've thought about this. Ye truly mean to do it?"

"I do. I owe it to my people to try to be the king they believe I can be." _I owe it to Merlin_. Would he have hidden all of this from him if Arthur had not spoken so harshly about magic? Would any of this have even happened if Arthur had known?

Gail's eyes glittered with tears in the dark and Arthur heard a hitch of emotion in her breath. Before he knew what was happening she had fallen to her knees before him and bowed her braided head. "I am a mother, a warrior, a simple peasant woman; I donnae ken how such things are done, but I _must_...

"I grew up on yer prophecies told as...as _bedtime stories_. I longed for the day when I could travel the world without hidin', when I could go into a city without someone trying to stone me for witchcraft when sommat went wrong near me, but I was...I dinnae think it would ever be so soon. I dinnae think I'd ever see it." Gail whispered, her voice sounding choked.

"When I first saw ye bumblin' through this accursed land searchin' for a ghost I saw a desperate fool. 'This man,' I thought, 'cannae be the Once and Future King.'

"Later, when I saw ye offer yer life to save a servant's, I saw a guilt-ridden, selfless friend. I saw the potential for greatness and humility underneath the arrogance and ignorance.

"Now... _Now_ , I see the makings of a legend. I would be a fool to not swear my sword and my fealty to ye."

Arthur found himself in a strange and sudden reversal of roles as he took his turn to stand shocked and gormless in the dark, but, to his secret pride, he recovered himself more quickly.

He crouched down to her level and placed a hand on her shoulder, looking her in the eye as she raised her tear-stained face. "And I a fool to reject it. I would be honored to have you by my side, and to welcome you to Camelot."


	24. Chapter XXIII

**Hey, y'all, me again, late again, you know how it is. The last couple months have felt like six, so it feels like I'm even later than I actually am, but time starts to blend together when you're working 75 hours a week (how did this happen?). I can't even remember who all I replied to and who I didn't, so sorry about that. Also, this chapter is a bit short, so sorry about that too. :/**

 **Anyway, as of this week my hours have dropped to a more manageable 50 a week, so unless I get a second job or something comes up, I may actually get a couple chapters in this fall. :)**

 **Thanks for reading!**

* * *

 **Chapter XXIII**

Merlin had been coughing all day. It sounded as rough as his voice, but not particularly wet. It was jarring at first, to hear him do it, hesitantly at first and with less and less restraint as the day wore on. Arthur hadn't even realized until now how much Merlin must have been suppressing it before.

Gail looked quite pleased by the development, so it must be a good thing.

Aside from the coughing, there had been very little sound. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Rather, the group seemed lighter and more relaxed than any of them had been in months. Perhaps it was just the fact that they were two days past the mountains, and well on their way back to civilization.

Callum had been shooting Merlin odd looks for hours, and not long ago, Merlin had begun to return them. Neither said a word, but they seemed to be having a sort of a conversation anyway, the meaning of which eluded everyone else. As Arthur watched, he saw Callum glance back suddenly at Merlin, then break out into a grin.

Astonishingly, Merlin ducked his head and smiled back.

It was at that point that Arthur decided this would be a good day.

Life seemed to slowly be returning to the land the further south they traveled. Callum had a pocket full of beetles he'd collected, and Alymere had found a patch of grass large enough for their only remaining horse to graze at. They expected to reach the nearest town soon, and Arthur hoped it would still be inhabited.

"What do you suppose they're doin' up there?" Gwaine broke Arthur out of his musings with a nod towards Merlin and Callum. Callum had just scrambled up a tree to break off a small stick, which he passed down to Merlin. Merlin reached up and took it with his left hand without comment and started twirling it in his fingers as Callum dropped back down behind him.

Arthur shrugged. "I don't care. Whatever it is, it's better than they were before, afraid of each other."

"I think they're doing it just to confuse us. They know we're watching them."

"We're _always_ watching Merlin these days; of course they know."

Merlin passed the stick to Callum, and Callum glanced back at them over his shoulder and laughed as if he'd heard them. Merlin shook his head and pointed at something just in front of Callum that Arthur couldn't make out.

Callum shrugged and pointed the stick at Merlin. Merlin shook his head again and Callum started stripping bark and twiggy bits off of the stick.

"Maybe it's a...no, I've got nothing." Gwaine gave up.

Merlin stopped suddenly, and Callum a moment later, and tipped his head back to look at the sky through the trees. Arthur caught the hint of a smile on Merlin's face just before he felt the first raindrops.

He didn't know what Merlin was so happy about. Rain would make their journey much more difficult, especially with Merlin's condition. Did he _want_ to die from a cold?

Then again, Arthur couldn't quite dismiss the possibility.

"Even the weather is starting to return to normal." Percival commented.

It was true, they were far too late in the season for it to be as dry as it had been, but Arthur still couldn't be happy about it.

"We need to find shelter." Arthur announced.

"We are still a day from Kander." Alymere put in. "We will have to make our own shelter tonight."

"We can keep going." Merlin rasped, his voice barely above a whisper after the day before. It was the first thing he had said since the...spell.

Arthur looked at him, trying to judge how close to collapse he was. "One hour. And you're riding."

Merlin glared, and looked like he might throw a fit, but he acquiesced without a word. Possibly to spare his voice, but more likely because his legs were starting to quake.

Arthur helped him mount, then shook his head when Callum passed a smooth stick up to Merlin without a word. Callum met Arthur's gaze and grinned cheekily.

 _They_ are _just trying to confuse the rest of us_. "Bloody hell." He muttered as they all started walking again. Children, the lot of them.

* * *

Within an hour they had located a spot against the wall of a ravine that supplied a decent amount of cover from the wind and rain, especially after the knights had propped up branches over them all.

Unfortunately, the rain had picked up and was now a steady downpour and every one of them was soaked to the skin. Merlin's cough had picked up in intensity and he shook in the breeze.

Still, he didn't seem to mind, pressed against the ravine wall with a warm horse lying on one side of him and Callum sitting just in front of him, stick in hand. They seemed to be deep in conversation, despite the persistent lack of words, and entirely unaware of what was going on around them as the rest of the party set up camp and started the fire.

Somewhere along the line, Arthur noted, they had managed to burn their stick into charcoal, despite the fact the fire was only just now getting started. Callum's arms and hands were black with it, as were the knees of his trousers. Merlin's left palm was black, and there was a smudge on his cheek that looked uncomfortably like a bruise.

"We don't have enough coin for another horse." Alymere's voice drew Arthur's attention back to the rest of them, and found that the fire was roaring comfortably now and everyone was settled around it. Gail was starting water boiling over it and dropping herbs and a few wild potatoes she'd dug up somewhere into it for their dinner.

"Some warmer clothes, food...nothing else. It will take us weeks at this pace to get back to Camelot."

"We are approaching Mercia. Could Bayard lend us assistance?" Percival suggested.

Arthur grimaced. "I'd rather Bayard had no notion of our presence. We may be allies, but we did not exactly part on friendly terms last we met."

"Ye donnae trust yer allies?"

Arthur sighed. "During his last visit we accused him of attempting to poison me. It turned out to be a witch in the end, but not before he was imprisoned, I was imprisoned, and Merlin nearly died. We only narrowly avoided war, and it was rather embarrassing for everyone. I would hardly be surprised if he was planning a move on Camelot as we speak, because of my absence."

"Right. Not an option, then." Gwaine said. "What else? We could _borrow_ some horses."

"Steal, you mean?" Alymere reproached.

"I'd give 'em back later!"

"With winter coming we couldn't get anything back until spring."

"We're not _borrowing_ anything." Arthur cut in. "We can see if there is any work to be had in Kander."

"They innae like to pay much."

Arthur shrugged. "It's better than nothing."

"Perhaps we could join a merchant's caravan?" Alymere asked. "Offer protection in exchange for a ride in a wagon?"

Arthur glanced over at Merlin, who was settled against the warm horse's belly, wrapped in a cloak and sleepily watching Callum draw something on a rock with his stick. He wasn't sure how Merlin would react around strangers, but he doubted he would be very comfortable.

"Maybe."

"Cal!" Gail shouted, changing the subject to more immediate matters. "Wash yer hands an' git over here!"

Dinner was as bland as ever, but no one complained, even if they were eagerly looking forward to a real meal at the next town. There were, of course, no leftovers to store, so it was a simple matter of cleaning up afterwards. Callum went back out into the rain to relieve himself, and the rest of them made short work of laying out bedding and cloaks, a bit closer than usual to make sure everyone was close to the fire and under shelter.

Callum was gone long enough for Gail to become worried. She had just snatched up her cloak from beside the fire to go after him when he came skipping back, dripping wet and marginally less sooty, clutching something tightly in his cupped hands. Everyone relaxed to see him back unharmed, but Gail glared at him nonetheless.

"Where've ye been, lad?" She scolded, raising an eyebrow as he stumbled over a log, barely managing not to fall on his face in his excitement.

"Look what I found, Mam!" He said, gleefully holding out his hands and opening them slowly to reveal a ruffled, wet little creature. The first wild animal any of them had seen that wasn't an insect in months.

"A wee bird!"

A cold pit dropped into Arthur's stomach and he was turning around before Callum had even finished speaking.

Merlin was lurching to his feet, pale as milk, and staggering into the woods.

Arthur was already after him.

"What─" Gwaine started to stand to, but Arthur waved him back.

"Stay."

Merlin only made it about fifteen feet before collapsing to his knees in front of a tree, shoulder pressed into the trunk, and lost his dinner. He wrapped his arm around the tree for support and heaved again just as Arthur caught up.

Arthur hesitated a moment, then sat down next to him with his back against the tree, facing back towards the camp. He reached up and put a hand on Merlin's arm, feeling it shake under his damp sleeve.

"...okay. M'okay." Merlin whispered, leaning his head into the tree.

Arthur smiled, a touch surprised at how fast Merlin seemed to be recovering. This shaking, vomiting mess was a far bit better than the screaming, hallucinating one from a couple weeks ago.

"Yeah, you are."

He heard Merlin take a deep, shaky breath, then another, before dry heaving again.

It was another long minute before Merlin managed to pull himself from the tree, turn around and put his back against it with Arthur. "Sorry." He breathed, drawing his knees up and burying his face in them.

Arthur shrugged. "Wasn't much in that stew anyway. I don't think you'll miss it." He said flippantly, despite knowing that Merlin was still frightfully thin and needed every bit he could get.

Merlin snorted, then straightened and leaned his head back against the tree, letting the rain drip down onto his face. "This year is fucked."

Arthur laughed. "Tell me something I don't know. Let's just skip to next year, shall we?"

Merlin sighed heavily, and they both fell back into a silence that stretched for several minutes, just sitting and listening to the rain that fell onto their heads.

"They were brothers." If Arthur had been sitting even a few inches further away he wouldn't have heard it.

"Pardon?"

"Something you don't know." Merlin shrugged, still looking at the sky. "...Bryce and...Dougal. Big one on the cliff." He tapped his mangled shoulder, and Arthur remembered the giant that had smashed it. His own leg ached at the memory of the man's dagger.

"They were brothers."

"Oh."

"When Dougal didn't come back...he was angry. He wanted revenge. When he learned I killed him, he started...He counted." Arthur remembered the tally marks on Merlin's back, the sour smell of ale, and a whispered threat in his ear. _Little bird..._

 _Wait_...

"Merlin..." Arthur whispered, horror curling in his gut. " _I_ killed the man on the cliff."

Merlin dropped his head, finally looking at Arthur. "I couldn't let him go after you. Not after what he'd done to me." He looked away again quickly.

"You let him believe...Merlin, I could have─"

"I was _not_ going to risk it." Merlin interrupted fiercely. "I was not going to risk _you_. I had to protect you, as much as I could. It's my job."

"Gods, Merlin, sometimes you have to protect yourself, too!"

"Only when I can do both."

Arthur buried his face in his hands and groaned in frustration. _Bloody Merlin and his bloody self-sacrificing..._ If he'd just told him who killed his brother, he would have gone after Arthur.

If Bryce had gone after Arthur, Arthur would have caught Merlin's trail months earlier.

They would be home by now.

"I killed him."

"I know, Arthur, I was there."

Sarcasm? "No, Merlin, I killed both of them. Bryce is dead too. Well, Bryce was a group effort. Bastard took two of us to get him."

Merlin was staring at him, wide-eyed. "You...what?"

"We found him in a tavern, drunk off his face. Didn't know who he was yet but he was...starting an altercation with the staff. We stepped in, and..." Arthur trailed off, and had to swallow a lump in his throat before continuing. " _He had your scarf_. He was our first lead and we had killed him. I thought I'd killed _you_."

Arthur felt, rather than saw the shiver that went through Merlin. "Oh."

"Yeah, ' _oh'_. Now, though...Now I can't regret it. He's gone. That's it."

Merlin stared down at his feet, and Arthur thought he might be crying. He couldn't tell though, what with the rain.

Arthur sighed, dropped his arm across Merlin's shoulders and pulled him closer so he could ruffle some of the water out of his hair and get it out of his eyes. "Any more of this moping and we'll both freeze to death. We were nearly dry, and here we are, soaked again. Let's go."

Merlin let Arthur pull him back to his feet, and together they trudged through the mud back to the camp.

"Missed rain." Merlin commented hoarsely.

"I didn't." It had been raining the day Merlin fell, the ground was slippery and even though it was illogical, Arthur partially blamed the weather for it the whole thing.

"You just don't like getting your petticoats wet."

Arthur laughed. "I almost _wish_ I had petticoats about now─maybe then I'd be warmer."

"You could try cuddling the horse. She's very warm."

"Not very soft though. Could smell better, too."

"I don't think she'll make you any worse."

"What's so funny?" Gwaine's voice interrupted as they trudged in. He sounded concerned, and was doing a very poor job of hiding it. Callum was still standing exactly where he had been, bird still clutched in his hands and a guilty expression on his face.

"Your face." Arthur answered, still grinning. "What are you lot still standing around for? Set a watch, get to bed."

They would be alright. Merlin would be alright. They would get back to Camelot, one way or another, even if they had to walk the whole way there in the rain.


End file.
